


Slowly, But Exceeding Fine

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Fluff, Humor, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Romance, Sequel, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-11
Updated: 2007-03-31
Packaged: 2018-12-27 05:28:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 53,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12074424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Sequel to'A Thousand Beautiful Things'. Brian Kinney lives in the highest loft on Tremont Street. He has imported Italian fixtures, designer clothes and neon blue lights above his bed. He has also gone to bed every night for the past three weeks holding a teddy bear with movie-star glasses and a purple T-shirt, and can't help thinking the bear is just a placeholder.





	1. Honestly Okay

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

  
Author's notes:

**This fic is the sequel to A Thousand Beautiful Things**

* * *

 

* * *

Brian Kinney lived in the topmost loft on Tremont Street. He had hardwood floors and Italian imported fixtures and neon blue lights above his bed. It was his fuck-pad, his sanctuary, and lately it had been feeling a bit like his cage.   
  
Brian wore designer clothes and spent an hour on his hair every day. He had a cleaning lady and ran his own advertising agency that was making quite a name for itself. He took his clients out for expensive feasts after he smooth-talked them into contracts and ad-campaigns and at night, for three weeks and counting, he climbed into bed missing something he wouldn’t permit himself to name, and held a brown teddy bear with a purple shirt that proudly declared it was ‘Queen of Fucking Everything’. Three weeks and counting since he had been at Liberty Hospital for a four month, court-ordered stint to deal with his anger issues.  
  
Now it was Saturday morning, the end of that third week and Brian stepped down the stairs that held his bedroom slightly above the rest of the loft. Brian did the last button on his black shirt and dropped his shoes onto the ground, recalling a time when he had worn yellow rain boots out in public because a loud woman with red hair had bent over him and wagged a red-painted fingernail threateningly in his face.  
  
“Brian,” Ben said as he slid open the loft door.  
  
“What the fuck are you doing here, Ben?” Brian asked, straightening again having laced his shoes.  
  
“Hello to you, too,” Ben teased. “I brought some things for your fridge.” Brian watched as the other man dropped grocery bags on his counter and began to stuff his wares into Brian’s cupboard and fridge. “A man cannot live on guava juice alone.”  
  
“It’s been working for me so far,” Brian said as he picked-up a large black portfolio and, after glancing around the loft, set the strap on his shoulder.   
  
“Working?” Ben asked.  
  
“It’s Saturday, Ben,” Brian said, pinching the bridge of his nose as Ben munched on a yogurt he had liberated from the now-stocked fridge.  
  
“Of that I am aware,” Ben said.  
  
“Then what are you doing here?” Brian asked.  
  
“My plan, after I put some food in your fridge, was to drag you to the Liberty Diner,” Ben explained and was ready to continue before Brian cut him off.  
  
“It’s Saturday,” Brian said. “I already have plans.”  
  
“Okay,” Ben said easily. Brian adjusted the bag on his shoulder and then hurried into his bedroom. A moment later, he came out stuffing something into the bag before he crossed to the door. “What do you do?” Ben asked.  
  
“Does it make a difference?” Brian said.  
  
“I’m just curious,” Ben said.  
  
“I go to the Baths and fuck my brains out.”  
  
“You need your ad campaigns to do that?” Ben asked. When Brian narrowed his eyes at him Ben shrugged. “I’m just saying, since you’ve gotten back you’ve been working too hard and playing too little. We should go to Babylon tonight, when you get back.”  
  
“Sure,” Brian said. “Now get out of my loft.” Ben obeyed and Brian followed him after setting the alarm.  
  
...............................  
  
Traffic was light and Brian pulled into the driveway earlier than he had expected. There weren’t many cars yet but that would change. He wondered if he were too early, but decided that even if he were, that wouldn’t stop him. He pulled the portfolio out of the back seat of his Jeep and headed towards the wooden stairs.  
  
“Brian!” a warm and familiar voice greeted. Brian paused on the stairs and felt himself suddenly relax. Justin was leaning over the railing of the patio, his arms draped over the edge and smiling his sunshine smile.   
  
“Hey, Sunshine,” Brian greeted, his voice likely too soft to travel the distance. He knew Justin would hear it anyway. He climbed the rest of the stairs and they stood and looked at each other, suddenly unsure what they should be doing. “Daphne let you sneak out?” Brian asked.  
  
“Debbie, actually,” Justin said. “I finished breakfast, though. She said it was okay to sit out for a bit that Vic would watch.” Brian and Justin turned towards the glass doors and windows that showed Vic Grassi one of the nurses of Liberty, sitting behind his desk. He waved at them and smiled. Brian waved back. “You know the only problem with all this new attention I get on Saturdays is I don’t get as much sketching done,” Justin said. Brian smirked as they headed to the corner of the patio that he had seen Justin sit in on visiting days.  
  
“Well, I hope you get some sketching done because otherwise I wasted a lot of money on this,” Brian said as he dropped the portfolio off his shoulder and set it on the ground.  
  
“Holy shit, that’s for me?” Justin exclaimed. He bent forward immediately to rifle through the bag. There were several different sized sketch pads, colour pencils, lead pencils, pencils that turned to watercolour when you brushed water over them, a few small brushes, charcoals, and one teddy bear wearing a t-shirt and purple sparkly movie-star glasses. Justin pulled out the bear and looked at Brian expectantly.  
  
“Your turn,” Brian said with a shrug.  
  
“I gave him to you,” Justin said.  
  
“Well, I’m giving him back,” Brian said.  
  
“You can’t do that. You can’t return a gift to someone. That’s just rude.”  
  
“My mother always said I had no manners,” Brian said. Justin glared. “Look, take the damned bear. It’s nothing we haven’t done before.” At this, Justin smiled, finally understanding what Brian intended.   
  
“You mean it?” Justin asked.  
  
Brian rolled his eyes. “Shut up and take the bear.” And because he knew Justin so well, he knew what was coming.  
  
“You so care about me,” Justin sang.   
  
“Don’t be a shit,” Brian said. Justin bumped his shoulder against Brian’s.  
  
“Thank-you,” he said, very politely, then he leaned over and kissed Brian. Brian wrapped his hand around the back of Justin’s head and kissed back. He was always slightly wary of this sort of contact with Justin, memories and imaginings of what Justin had gone through every month making him cautious. Justin had never pulled back once he initiated a kiss or a touch, but Brian knew sometimes Justin didn’t like touch and he was always wary of missing a cue and pushing Justin further than the blond was comfortable with. “Mm,” Justin said when he sat back; he licked his lips then grinned. “We had movie night!” he said. “It was ‘Casablanca’ and totally not the same without everyone.”  
  
“Do you have a new roommate?” Brian asked.  
  
“No,” Justin said, answering so casually that Brian knew something was going on. He didn’t push.  
  
“An entire room to yourself. My my, all that sucking-up to the nursing staff has paid off,” Brian said.  
  
“I can’t help it if I’m young and attractive,” Justin said.  
  
“Don’t kid yourself, Sunshine. It’s that you look like your twelve.”  
  
“Hey, that’s not fair. I don’t make age-cracks about you!” Justin said. Brian stared back and Justin smirked. “Okay, so I do. But you’re still just being a prick.”  
  
Since he’d left Liberty, Brian had spent his Saturdays visiting it -- visiting Justin. Their dynamic had changed, and where once Brian had been the one to listen to Justin rant, the one to whom Justin confided his fears, the separation after Brian had left the hospital meant now Justin spoke with him much the same as he spoke with their friend Emmett. It was light, it was casual -- though sometimes they kissed or hugged -- for the most part, it was nothing like what they had been at the hospital.  
  
“He talks with me,” Lindsay said as she walked with him in the garden once Justin had said good-bye and gone in for dinner. “He’s been doing really well.”  
  
“What’s been going on?” Brian asked.  
  
“That’s confidential,” Lindsay said.  
  
“Since when? What happened to the buddy-system?”  
  
“Justin isn’t a part of the buddy-system anymore,” Lindsay said. Brian frowned and Lindsay sighed. “I want to thank-you for returning the bear. His nightmares have been pretty intense. I think it will help.” Brian shook his head. “What is it?”  
  
“The only way I could get him to take it was to promise to exchange it. Back-and-forth, like before.”  
  
  
“That’s even better. It renews the contact to you, not to mention, it ensures that you’ll come back,” Lindsay said with a smile.  
  
“He knows I visit every Saturday. And if I ever decided not to, do you think a teddy bear would change that?” Brian said.  
  
“It’s little things, Brian. It just eases his mind,” Lindsay said.  
  
“You’re talking about him as if he’s crazy,” Brian said.  
  
“Not at all,” Lindsay said. “But he’s dealing with some very difficult things right now. Anything we can do to put him at ease and keep his environment stable will help.”  
  
“He needs a friend in there,” Brian said.  
  
“He has Michael, and several good friends on the nursing staff,” Lindsay reminded.  
  
“He needs a buddy,” Brian said.  
  
“Brian,” Lindsay said with a smile. “I think you were an exception. The only one Justin would have reached out to like he did.” They walked in silence for a bit. “How have you been doing?”  
  
“Fine,” Brian said. “It’s hard to transition back.”  
  
“Is that what you want to do? Transition back to how things were?” Lindsay asked.  
  
“I’m not your patient anymore,” Brian said.   
  
Lindsay patted his arm and smiled. “I think you’re doing just fine, Brian.”  
  
.......................  
  
Justin sketched Brian standing at the top of their hill, in their place. He drew himself standing beside the man, just like they had spent so many days. They were happy, they were talking, and they were friends. These were memories now. These days Justin worried about Brian getting bored, or moving on, and leaving him alone.  
  
It was true that his sister visited once and a while, and Emmett came just about every-other week. But Brian wasn’t like family, and he wasn’t just a friend. It confused Justin, and frightened him a little, but mostly he knew with absolute certainty that he couldn’t let Brian turn away from him, couldn’t let him leave him. So Justin kept things light, kept it easy. He initiated kisses and touches and smiled and pretended that things were really okay. Brian was back in his old life, now, he had his own worries and his own concerns and didn’t have room for Justin’s any longer.   
  
Tucking his sketch supplies away, Justin grabbed Gus-bear and removed the movie-star glasses, setting them on the night table before flicking off the light and settling into bed. It wasn’t as if he was lying to Brian. He loved kissing and touching Brian -- and if he hid the times when touch scared him, tried to distract the other man while shivers went through his body at bad memories, well, that wasn’t lying. And keeping his fears and worries out of those few hours they had together wasn’t lying either. Brian didn’t tell him about what he was worried about, he spoke about work sometimes, and clients but that wasn’t the same.   
  
Justin didn’t want to think about where it all was going. Brian would move on because it all came down to one thing. Justin wasn’t going anywhere, and Brian was.   
  
.............................  
  
“Cynthia,” Brian barked to cut-off her ramblings. “Just get it done, please.” He might have said it with clenched teeth and with an obvious edge to his tone, but Cynthia was stunned that he wasn’t yelling, wasn’t throwing things. He’d said ‘please’!   
  
“Uhm, sure boss,” she said. Then she smiled. She was loving the changes in her boss and in her work place since Brian had returned. He was still a bear when things didn’t go his way, but he was a quieter, more playful bear. At least he didn’t maul everyone like he had done before. She hadn’t had to replace his desk lamp since he’d come back -- that was a good thing. And no books had been hurled across the office. Kinnetic was running smoother than ever, which was amazing, because it had always been a bit of a well-oiled machine.  
  
“Ben,” Brian greeted as he answered his ringing phone. “Wait, let me guess ... Babylon?”  
  
“Close,” Ben answered. “I was thinking Woody’s. We haven’t played pool in a while.”  
  
“Fine, Woody’s at nine,” Brian said, then smirked because that sounded amusing. Ben didn’t get the joke, but he was satisfied that they had plans. “Ted!” Brian said.  
  
“You bellowed?” Ted asked, poking his head through the office door.  
  
“Get in here,” Brian said. “Did you wire the money to Men’s Health magazine?”  
  
“It just went out,” Ted said.   
  
“Good, you can go,” Brian said.  
  
“Why thank-you,” Ted said. “Woody’s tonight?”   
  
“Christ, what is it with everyone these days?”  
  
“We’re just wanting you to get back to your old self,” Ted said with a shrug.  
  
Brian frowned but waved Ted out without comment. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go back to his old self. He wasn’t sure what he wanted.

 

 ------------------------

End Chapter One:[](http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y164/princesskirsty/layouts/lemonbar/slowly2.png)


	2. Old Ways

 

* * *

Justin’s eyes flew open and he took-in the pattern of the moonlight on the ceiling, the sound of the late October wind in the trees, and focussed on smoothing his breath, calming his tense body, and putting the bad memories out of his mind.  
  
When he was calm, Justin twisted onto his side and slipped his arms around his pillow. He stared across the room into the shadows and then closed his eyes. Sleep didn’t come to him, and he pulled back the covers and crossed the floor.   
  
For a moment he paused, staring at the neatly made bed, and then he pulled back the covers and climbed beneath them. He stayed very still with his back to the door and recalled new memories, of when the bed on this side of the room had not been so empty. With a sigh, Justin closed his eyes. He wouldn’t fall asleep again, the nightmares still fresh in his mind, but at least the darkness wasn’t so cloying.  
  
........................  
  
Brian took him hard against the wall of the backroom, surrounded by grunts and groans and the heady thumpa-thumpa -- so loud the very walls vibrated with the sound. When the man came, he swore that Brian was the best he’d ever had, but by that point Brian had pulled out, disposed of the condom and was half-way out of the backroom.  
  
“Can I see you again?” the man asked, Brian quirked an amused eyebrow and headed over to the bar.  
  
“It’s good to have you back,” Ted said with a grin as he clapped a hand on Brian’s shoulder. Brian shrugged and looked to the doors of the club.   
  
“I’ll buy you a beer,” Ben said.  
  
“No thanks, I’m heading out,” Brian said.  
  
“Now? We just got here!” Ted said in surprise.  
  
“Buh-bye,” Brian said.  
  
“Where’s he going?” Ben wondered.  
  
“Probably the Baths,” Ted snarked.  
  
“Ever since he got back he’s been avoiding us and Liberty,” Ben said.  
  
“It’s probably just the transition, you know? When I kicked my drug habit, I was scared to come back to Babylon and Woody’s. But then I got used to it.”  
  
“But you’re drug problem was directly related to Babylon and Woody’s. Brian wasn’t at Liberty Hospital kicking a drug habit; he was sentenced to therapy for anger-management. Babylon was where he would go to unwind, to stay calm. I’m worried that if he isn’t using his old methods to cope, and he hasn’t developed any new methods, then he’ll just go back to the way he was,” Ben said.  
  
“Well, to me, Brian just isn’t Brian without the drugs and the tricks,” Ted said with a shrug.  
  
“It was never a very safe lifestyle,” Ben said with a frown.  
  
“Brian’s never played anything safe,” Ted said. “Except sex, then there’s always a condom, but that’s about as safe as he gets.”  
  
.............................  
  
“I don’t want to cause any problems,” Justin explained. Lindsay sat back in her chair.  
  
“What do you mean ‘problems’.”  
  
“He has this whole life, and he’s really successful. And then he comes up here on Saturday to visit this crazy teenager who’s, like, falling apart all over the place. It’s stupid. It’s the most idiotic thing ever. But he’ll keep doing it because he feels sorry for the poor crazy kid.”  
  
“Justin, we’ve talked about this. You are not, nor have you ever been ‘crazy’. You’ve been coping exceptionally well with exceptional circumstances. Brian knows this. He doesn’t come here out of pity.”  
  
“But he’ll start if he knows how fucked-up I am!” Justin said.   
  
“In any relationship there has to be trust, and there has to be communication,” Lindsay said.  
  
“We’re not in a relationship,” Justin said. “We can’t be.”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
“Because he’s out there! He’s living his life -- and I’m happy for him, and it’s good -- but I’m in here, and I’m not going anywhere. Whatever this is that we do every Saturday, it isn’t a relationship, and it’s not going to last.”  
  
“Justin, you can leave whenever you want to. I think you’re ready, so long as you keep-up with regular therapy sessions, I think --”  
  
“It doesn’t matter,” Justin said. Enunciating in that way he did when he was agitated. “I have nowhere to go. I don’t belong anywhere.”  
  
.........................  
  
Brian lay on his bed and smoked a joint. He’d considered taking a tab of E, but any pleasure he might have gotten from that was outweighed by Dr. Blake Wyzecki’s voice berating him for polluting his system. Even outside of Liberty and away from the good-doctor, Brian still had fears of the ‘body purge’. Weed might not be so good for him, but it wasn’t so bad, either.  
  
Lately it had been difficult to go to sleep. He knew what was absent -- the gentle scratch of a pencil on paper, the feeling of warmth and the weight of a body next to his. It was silly to wish for something he couldn’t have, but lying naked in bed smoking a joint, Brian knew exactly what he wanted.   
  
He blew out the smoke and flopped his hand to the side, feeling the stuffed bear on his bed. It was his turn with Gus-bear. The teddy, always sitting in the middle of his bed when he came home, made him smile. He didn’t want to think about what his cleaning lady thought. It didn’t matter. The bear was a tenuous connection to something unattainable -- something he wanted.   
  
........................  
  
Brian awoke the next morning and realized he was kidding himself. He’d known it would happen but he went ahead and did it anyway, but the point was he was done bullshitting himself. Liberty had done more that cure him of his anger. He couldn’t do drugs like he used to, knowing what they were doing to him, fearing only a little that they would send his system out of whack and he’d go back to raging. He looked at alcohol warily, though he still drank it liberally when he wanted. He purchased homeopathics from the store down the street and now instead of worrying about food and gaining weight, he worried about food and keeping his system in balance -- and gaining weight. Tricking mostly left him with a bad taste in his mouth and a wish for something -- else.  
  
Work was still the same. He’d missed it when he was in Liberty, the challenge the adventure of it. It was the only thing, lately, that left him satisfied.  
  
..........................  
  
This time Justin greeted him at the bottom of the patio and they headed away from where the largest group of visitors congregated, out to what had always been their spot.  
  
Brian settled himself down onto the grass, smirking when Justin settled between his legs, resting back against Brian’s chest as if the other man was a living chair. “Comfortable?” he asked, tongue in cheek. Justin twisted around and kissed Brian’s chin.  
  
“Lindsay said you were asking about my mental health,” Justin said.  
  
“I’m very concerned about your mental health,” Brian added with mock-sincerity. Justin laughed and smacked his arm.  
  
“You don’t want to hear my problems,” Justin said. “Believe me. I don’t even want to hear my problems, and they’re my problems, so ... trust me on this,” Justin said.   
  
“Okay,” Brian said after a pause. He wondered at the change between them, and didn’t know how to change it. He knew only that he had promised himself he would accept the challenge -- over a month ago as he’d sat on a beach -- and he wouldn’t back down. “What about my problems?” he asked.  
  
“What about them?” Justin asked with a frown.  
  
“Can I share mine?” Brian asked. Justin looked at him as if he’d lost his mind, but nodded a little. “I’m back to living my old life.”  
  
“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” Justin asked. “That’s pretty much all you were wishing for when you were in here. Every Saturday you could barely contain yourself, you were so excited to hear about your work.”  
  
“How the fuck did you know that?” Brian asked.   
  
Justin smiled his mischievous smile and wiggled his eyebrows. “I know things.”  
  
“Anyway,” Brian said. “The point is it’s not the same. It isn’t satisfying anymore.”  
  
“So change,” Justin said with a shrug.  
  
“It’s that easy, huh?” Brian asked.  
  
“Why not?” Justin said.  
  
“Okay,” Brian said after a pause. “You first.”  
  
Brian had gotten up and left Justin on the hill to think about that. He’d left Gus-bear with him -- it was Justin’s turn. And because Liberty rarely changed in any core way, Brian knew exactly where he would find Lindsay.  
  
“Brian,” she greeted. She was smiling broadly.  
  
“What?” he asked, frowning.  
  
  
“Can’t I be happy to see you?” she asked.  
  
“No one’s that happy to see anyone,” he said.  
  
Lindsay laughed. She sounded giddy. “I’m pregnant,” she said. “It was just confirmed last night.”  
  
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” he said. “And you had such a nice figure.”  
  
“Brian!” she said, but she was laughing. “I’m just so happy!” Brian wondered how Melanie was taking it, but thought that, after the lecture she’d given him before she’d left, she was probably more Zen about it than Ben who, in Brian’s opinion, was so Zen it bordered on unhealthy.   
  
Lindsay asked him about how things were going, and shared the news from the hospital, and then went straight to the point and asked him what he wanted. “I can tell,” she said. “It’s my job.”  
  
“I want a recommendation to a therapist in the city,” Brian managed, the words difficult to say, difficult but necessary. His therapy sessions at Liberty had both confirmed and destroyed all notions he had about the process. There was less pressure discussing his ‘issues’ with a stranger once a week at a set time, than reaching out to a friend.  
  
“Sure,” Lindsay said. “I think this is a really good decision. I’m so proud of you.”  
  
“Christ, don’t start,” Brian said.  
  
.............................  
  
“Hey, Daph,” Justin said, lifting his head from his sketchpad and looking at the young nurse who was sitting with him in the nurse’s station. She was arranging pills in cups for the patients.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Do you think I’m a coward?” he asked.  
  
“No! Why? Who said that to you?” she looked as if she was ready to get up and break someone’s head.  
  
“Nobody!” he assured her. “I’m just wondering. Sometimes it just feels like I’m being a coward.”  
  
“Justin,” she said, then she set down the cup she had been filling, and turned her chair to face him. “Justin, you’re not a coward. There’s nothing cowardly about the things you’ve done and lived through, or the way you’ve handled things. It’s really brave.”  
  
“But everyone keeps throwing it back at me. I’m nineteen and I’m still here, and even Lindsay is starting to push at me. Like maybe I’m hiding out, or something.”  
  
“Hell, you’ve been through a lot this year. Liberty is supposed to be a place where you can relax and focus on getting better, but it hasn’t been that place for you, not for very long. So you take your time, and when you feel you’re ready, then go ahead and break out of here. Until then, who gives a fuck what anyone else thinks!”  
  
“Oh my god,” Justin said. “You sound exactly like Debbie.”  
  
“Oh shit, you think so?” Daphne asked. Justin nodded his head, and they broke into laughter.  
  
.......................  
  
Following the staff meeting on Friday night, Daphne pulled Lindsay to the side. “You know I hate doing this, but Justin was talking to me the other day and I thought it was important.”  
  
“What did he say?” Lindsay asked, concerned.  
  
“He said that you were talking to him about leaving Liberty,” Daphne said.  
  
“I want it to be something he’s thinking about, in the back of his mind, at least,” Lindsay said.  
  
“Well, it’s freaking him out,” Daphne said. “You’re his therapist, I thought you’d understand more than anyone. Justin thinks of this as his home, and frankly, it is the only place he can call home. If you start talking about leaving, and putting pressure on him, than that’s like kicking him out!”  
  
“I assure you, I’m not putting pressure on him. I’m just helping him think about the future,” Lindsay said.  
  
“Well, maybe you should ease off, a bit,” Daphne said. “Can’t he just have a break?”  
  
“Of course,” Lindsay said. “But he also has to realize that life doesn’t stop just because you wish it would.”  
  
Daphne nodded, understanding Lindsay’s point but disagreeing with it just the same. She headed back to the floor to grab her bag when she noticed the flickering lights in the rec room.  
  
“What are you doing?” she asked, noticing Justin and Michael sitting side-by-side on the sofa watching a show.  
“It’s Beauty and the Beast!” Michael said. She smiled to herself, watching what remained of the Gang, Justin and Michael had gotten closer since everyone else in their close-knit group of friends had left the hospital, and the result had been quite positive for Michael.  
  
“Can I join you?” she asked. She’d done it before, once or twice. She considered them her friends, and she was off duty. Technically there was no rush home. They grinned at her and waved her over, offered her a share of their candy stash -- which they saved specifically for movie nights -- and then turned back to the film watching raptly as another petal fell from the rose in the glass jar.  


 -------------------------

End Chapter Two:


	3. Hurtable, Breakable, Woundable

 

* * *

Brian waited in their usual corner of the patio but had yet to see any sign of Justin. It had been over an hour since he’d arrived. “He’s inside,” Lindsay said, coming up to him.  
  
“Why?” Brian asked with a frown.  
  
“It’s been a hard week,” Lindsay said. “He’s in quite a mood. I don’t think he’ll come out today, Brian.”  
  
“Well, what the hell were you talking to him about?” Brian asked.  
  
“That’s confidential,” Lindsay said.  
  
“Well, I’m not leaving until I see him,” Brian said.  
  
“I thought as much, that’s why I came over.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Justin has spent a long time not talking,” Lindsay explained. “He’s gotten used to it, you understand? Even if he speaks freely now, when he’s upset, he reverts back.”  
  
“So, you’re warning me because when I go in there he’s going to be like before?”  
  
“Except before he’d be mute but pleasant,” Lindsay said. Brian snickered. He was well acquainted with Justin’s mood swings.  
  
“This is really poor timing,” Brian said, pinching the bridge of his nose.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“I have to tell him that I’ll be out of town next weekend,” Brian admitted.   
  
Lindsay shook her head at the bad luck. “Well, whatever you do, you have to keep your schedule. Justin will be more upset to hear you’re holding back on living your life because of him,” Lindsay said.  
  
“Are you sure about that?”   
  
“Most definitely,” Lindsay said. “He already has concerns that you might pity him. Naturally, with you living your life outside of Liberty, he feels already as if you’ve not on equal ground.”  
  
“That’s crazy,” Brian said. Lindsay raised her eyebrows and Brian sighed knowing that it was true. “Fuck.”  
  
.........................  
  
Brian stalked quickly through the halls and stopped outside of his old room. He wasn’t sure what he should say or do to lift Justin out of the funk he was in, but after pacing outside the door for several minutes he decided he’d wing it.  
  
As soon as he entered the room he spotted Justin lying on his bed, an untouched breakfast tray on the night table beside him. Up until that moment, Brian imagined he might find it in himself to be gentle and understanding. He forgot his plans as soon as he saw Justin.   
  
“What the fuck are you doing?” Brian demanded. Justin turned his head and looked back, his expression clearly saying that what he was doing should be plainly obvious. “Out of bed!” Brian said. Justin turned back around to face the wall.  
  
“Get up, or I’m dragging you up!” Brian said. Justin ignored him. “You’re acting like a child. Don’t make me count to ten like you’re in preschool,” Brian said. Brian sighed and counted, he reached ten and Justin hadn’t moved. “Fine.” Brian stepped forward, yanked the covers back and grasped Justin under the arms, pulling him up and out of bed as the blond attempted to struggle.   
  
“I warned you,” Brian said. “Now are you going to walk with me, or am I going to have to drag you out?” Brian asked. Justin sniffed and his chin shot up in defiance, so Brian harassed Justin out of the room, and pushed and prodded and chivvied and distracted -- sometimes even dragged -- Justin until they were outside, walking in the garden. He badgered and coaxed trying to get Justin to explain the reason for his funk, until finally Brian shrugged. “Fine, you win. I give-up.”  
  
“Fuck you!” Justin said. “You can’t just give up!” Brian almost snorted with laughter, but refrained.   
  
“Well, I don’t know what else I can do to get you to tell me what’s wrong,” Brian said.  
  
“God dammit,” Justin said. “Can’t I have a moment where people aren’t badgering me?” Justin said. “How do you feel Justin? Why aren’t you eating, Justin? What happened, Justin? Tell me about your family, Justin? Give me a break!” Justin plopped down onto the ground, wrapping his arms around his knees. Brian waited a moment before he sat down beside the blond.  
  
“So what happened?” Brian asked.  
  
“It’s just been a really fucking shitty week. That’s it. That’s all. Just, so fucking shitty,” Justin said.  
  
Brian nodded, pulled Gus-bear from his pocket where he’d stuffed him in order to return him to Justin for the week. Perching the stuffed bear on his knee he looked at Justin seriously. “Tell Doctor Gus all your problems.”  
  
Justin laughed, which was what Brian had been aiming for, and then shrugged. “Christopher was finally sentenced on Tuesday,” he said. Brian hadn’t known that. He was at the courthouse in the morning because Melanie had requested that he testify, but looking at Christopher sitting there as if he hadn’t a care in the world had tried his anger and so Brian had left as soon as he was able. He’d been surprised to find Emmett there, but not so surprised to see Lindsay.  
  
“Lindsay brought in some psych evaluations she’d done, and Emmett told me that now that he knew what he had really been seeing, he remembers the first time Christopher ever --- ever went after me. I got awarded damages, Hobbes as a black mark on his record, and is out some money, and beyond that -- not a whole lot. It’s not enough, but you know. I don’t think anything would feel like enough. No matter what you do to him, he’ll still be the same, still think the same. He could do it again, he could come after me, or someone else.” Brian nodded, and Justin continued. “And Lindsay was completely obsessing about it all week. How did that make me feel? What more could I ask for? And she started drawing parallels between Chris and my dad, and goody, as if just reliving one of those isn’t enough on its own, let’s talk them to death at the same time!”  
  
“Nothing like a trip down memory lane,” Brian agreed.  
  
“This week’s theme was concentrating on me, on what I did during the attacks. She kept asking me, could I have done more? Could I have done more? -- I don’t know! Could I? Probably. I should have done more. But I just froze, and I couldn’t help it. So I screamed at her that no, I couldn’t. If she thought she could do better then she could go ahead and test how she handled being abused and being molested and being ... which I think was what she was aiming for. But that didn’t occur to me until I’d stormed back to my room, and it just pisses me off. I’m sick of being manipulated like that because I’m so fucking emotional about all of this.”   
  
Justin let out his breath and Brian watched as the tension drained from Justin’s body, then the boy dropped his head to the side so he could rest it against Brian’s body. “Hi,” Justin said. “It’s good to have you back.” Brian snickered, and then wrapped an arm around Justin’s shoulders, and they just sat there. Brian knew he didn’t need to give Justin advice, the man knew what he should do, and he just needed somewhere safe to rant about it. Brian was happy that place was with him.  
  
.............................  
  
“Well, thank the lord!” Debbie said when Brian and Justin returned to the floor in time for a late dinner. She handed over Justin’s tray and one of the trays they had set aside for visitors, and patted Brian’s cheek. “You did good, kiddo,” she said.   
  
“I believe that’s your ‘kiddo’ over there,” Brian said, nodding to where Michael was sitting with Vic and Emmett. Debbie rolled her eyes and smiled. She was like that, Brian had learned to ignore it, or accept it. Either way.  
  
Brian had explained that he had to travel to New York for a business meeting, and wouldn’t be back next Saturday. Justin had taken the news much better than Brian had anticipated. “You can’t help that, Brian,” Justin said. “I’m glad things are going well. Just come back the week after, if you can.”  
  
Despite the calm in which Justin had received the news, after eating dinner with Emmett and Michael and Vic, Justin tugged on Brian’s sleeve and they headed back to the room.   
  
Technically it was time for all visitors to leave, but he’d caught Debbie’s eye on the way and knew he’d be an exception. “Just till I fall asleep,” Justin said, already yawning. Brian didn’t point out the dark smudges under Justin’s eyes, but he settled onto Justin’s bed, taking Gus-bear from the night table where he’d been waiting, and waited until Justin got comfortable. “You’re good at this,” Justin said drowsily. Brian smirked and kissed blond hair.   
  
Justin passed-out long before lights-out, but Brian stayed where he was. Finally, unable to ignore the fact that he had to drive home, and it was long-passed time for visitors to have left, Brian extricated himself from Justin’s grip and slipped out of bed, tucking Gus-bear into Justin’s arms before he left.  
  
..........................  
  
Brian pulled the blue workbook from the bag he’d left it in and settled onto the sofa. He’d stuffed it away when he first received it, intent on forgetting all about it. He’d pulled it out again when desperation had him searching for any clue that might help him help Justin. Now he was pulling it out again.   
  
He had weekly therapy sessions with Doctor Pritchard who had confirmed what Lindsay had once told him, and advised that he concentrate on himself. “It’s easy to do, given how things have worked out,” Erik Pritchard had explained. “If you want to be there for Justin, you have that time available. Tell yourself that Saturdays are for Justin, but the rest of the week is for you.” Brian almost threw a paperweight at the man, but managed to restrain himself. Erik Pritchard, like Lindsay, had a habit of sounding very much like every irritating bad thing Brian had always associated with therapists. Also, like Lindsay, Brian got the sense that this was an act that Erik was putting on. It was likely the reason Lindsay had recommended him specifically.  
  
“Don’t think about the future,” Erik advised. “If this pattern changes at some point, naturally you’ll handle this differently, but for now, that’s the schedule. You’re not going to do Justin, or anyone else any good if you haven’t sorted yourself out.”  
  
“I’m not in therapy for Justin,” Brian said.  
  
“Of course not. But on some level you’re thinking this way,” Erik said. “So this is how to deal with it.” He’d continued on to explain that this was also how to deal with his problem transition from Liberty into a new life. Between a lot of psychobabble bullshit, Erik explained that Brian had to continue to pursue the path he’d been on when he’d been in Liberty, working through his issues. So Brian took out the workbook, and flipped to the first page. Pen in hand, and grimacing only a little, Brian began to acknowledge his past experiences.  
  
..............................  
  
The highlight of the week happened on Tuesday when Liberty Hospital received a shipment of new chairs for the nursing staff. Justin and Michael sat on the floor in the hallway and watched the orderlies brining in the new chairs -- colourful, comfortable, and they had wheels. They didn’t even need to exchange a word, they both just understood.   
  
They waited for the orderlies to return to their routes, and for the nurses to be distracted, wheeling the chairs to where they wanted them. Justin and Michael eyed the chairs that had been left in the hall while the nurses wheeled one at a time to wherever these chairs were going.   
  
Grinning like maniacs, Justin and Michael shot up off the floor, raced each other to the chairs, grabbed one each and proceeded to roll down the hallway. “I’m winning!” Michael declared. Justin laughed, pushed his chair around faster. They lost control, bumped into each other and rolled into a wall before they regained control.  
  
“Boys!” Debbie cried. Orderlies returned to the hall to see if their help was needed, but no one had the heart to stop either man. Their laughter filled the hallway as they rolled, until they’d reached the end of the hall. “You could break your necks!” Debbie scolded, but her only response was laughter. “We’re going to have to lock up these damned chairs!”  
  
..........................  
  
“I got suspended,” Molly said proudly before Justin had even greeted her. He’d been sitting in his usual place, sketching. Unsure who would come, but hoping that someone would. He’d grown accustomed to having visitors on Saturday, and didn’t want to miss a single week.  
  
“What?” Justin asked.   
  
“I punched Marvin Haymond in the face because he called Shelley a dyke,” Molly said with a shrug. She leaned over and kissed Justin’s cheek. “Technically I’m grounded, but mom’s at work, and who knows where dad is. If they expect me to sit in my room on my own, they’re crazy.”  
  
“They’ll be worried,” Justin said. “Wait, mom works?”  
  
“Yeah, she’s a realtor. It pisses dad off, because now she refuses to cook dinner all the time, she insists that they split it equal because she gets home and she’s just as tired as dad is after a long day of work. You should hear them argue about it. Argue about who boils water and dumps noodles in a pot! It’s crazy.”  
  
“Are they not getting along?” Justin asked.  
  
“As well as they ever did. Mom’s just getting restless. I can’t say I blame her,” Molly said. “Why didn’t you tell me Saint James was full of homophobic pricks?”  
  
“You never asked me, I would have told you not to go,” Justin said with a smirk. They ignored the fact that when Molly had decided to switch schools, Justin hadn’t been talking, and he hadn’t seen his family in two years.  
  
“Fuck, so much for smart decisions. At least it will look good for college. I mean, Saint James is prestigious,” Molly said.   
  
Justin berated her for using violence and getting suspended. Then he nudged her shoulder, “You hit him pretty hard, right?”  
  
“Yeah,” Molly said with a grin, smiling again after the minor chastisement. “I broke his nose.” Justin snickered and threw an arm around her shoulder. There were times that Molly missed her brother so much it was a physical pain. This was one of those times. “You’re my favouritest,” she said in a child’s lisp, like she used to do when they were kids. Justin threw his head back and laughed, Molly closed her eyes and savoured the sound.  


 ------------------------

End Chapter Three:


	4. Every Colour of Confusion

  

* * *

 

If there was one thing Brian hadn’t been expecting to do on the Sunday morning following his return from his business trip, it was to be sitting in church with his mother. She’d called almost as soon as he’d walked into his loft. He’d barely had the chance to drop his bags by the door and reach the phone.   
  
Brian could admit to himself that he would have ignored the call entirely if there hadn’t been a niggling bit of worry that maybe it was Liberty Hospital, calling because something had happened to Justin. It was a ludicrous concern; the staff probably wouldn’t call him even if something had happened because he really had no ties to the young blond. Still, there was the chance that Daphne or maybe even Debbie had phoned.   
  
He’d been unsurprised to find that it wasn’t Liberty Hospital on the other end of the phone. What had surprised him was that it was his mother, armed and ready with a fresh dose of guilt that she wielded ruthlessly until he succumbed to her wishes.  
  
“The next time you have to go to church,” he said by way of greeting when he’d arrived at her house to pick her up. “Have Claire drive you.”  
  
“I phoned her first, naturally,” Joan Kinney had replied. “But she’s busy with the boys today.” So Brian sat in a pew and went through the motions -- stand, kneel, sit, repeat. All the while, he was imagining the things Dr. Pritchard would say to him about this.  
  
“You felt you had to go?” Dr. Erik asked him on Tuesday.  
  
“I didn’t have to go,” Brian replied. “That’s ridiculous. I’m an adult. I don’t have to do anything.”  
  
“But you said yes,” Dr. Erik said.  
  
“It’s easier, in the long-run, to just give her what she wants. Otherwise she slings more guilt, and then moans and bitches, and she calls back for weeks following, and if you don’t answer she leaves messages. You should hear her messages, they sound as if she’s trapped in the machine.”  
  
“What concerns me is you are becoming trapped in an unhealthy cycle with your family. It’s one that is quite common, and easy to fall into, and as a therapist my stance on it is quite uncommon. I wonder if this same treatment applies to your father. Do you help him out like this?”  
  
“My father’s dead,” Brian said, tonelessly.  
  
“Before his death?” Dr. Erik asked. Brian was somewhat pleased that the man didn’t offer his condolences.   
  
“When he needed money, I always gave it to him. I would visit him about once a month, or so,” Brian admitted.  
  
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, nothing to worry about. It’s natural for a child to want to please their parents, to want to make them proud. Often, the more impossible a parent is to please, the harder the child tries. In cases of abuse, this escalates even more. Your behaviour is completely understandable and acceptable. But in order to really move on, it’s time to confront your feelings about your mother -- and your father -- and perhaps come to a decision. It’s about being authentic to your real feelings.” Brian snorted, as he always did, at the mention of ‘feelings’. “For the next little while, think about your relationship with each of your parents, how you feel when they ask you to do something, and why you end-up doing whatever you do.”  
  
..........................  
  
Justin sat on the floor in the rec room, his back against the wall and staring at the opposite side of the room. Daphne, who had known Justin since he was seventeen, was familiar with the way Justin’s fingers were twitching. She ducked out of the rec room, and returned a moment later to slip a pencil between his restless fingers and drop a sketchpad onto his lap.  
  
“He hardly stops, does he?” Debbie said with a fond smile.  
  
“Nope,” Daphne agreed. “Do you think Mr. Montgomery would agree to allow Justin to paint a mural. I mean, that walls been bugging the patients and the staff for ages. It would also give Justin something to do, you know. It might make him feel productive.” Mr. Montgomery was the founder of Liberty Hospital, inspired by his wife, whom he had loved completely who had a breakdown. The treatments they had given her had done nothing but make her worse. She’d committed suicide, which was all too common among people with mental illnesses. The system just didn’t support them, didn’t do everything it could for them.  
  
“You could try, Honey,” Debbie said. “Might talk to Lindsay, she’d probably back you up.”   
  
Daphne grinned and looked back at Justin. “Okay.”  
  
.............................  
  
Jack Kinney had died not knowing that his son was a homosexual. Brian’s motto was that his sexuality was no one’s business but his own. He hadn’t told anyone in his immediate family based on this idea. The truth was that he was also a little afraid of how the news might be received. His mother was a firm churchgoer and had no tolerance for anything that was ‘different’. His father was as much of a red-necked homophobic asshole as you could get without coming from a hick-town. He knew how any member of his family would receive the news, and he didn’t want to deal with it. On some level, he wasn’t done trying to make them proud.  
  
Added to that, Brian had firm ideas on how a man should behave. Mostly they’d grown-out of watching his father and coming to the conclusion that he didn’t want to be anything like that. So when his sister needed money, Brian gave it to her. When his mother needed help, Brian helped. He was head of the family, whether they saw it that way or not. Those two sides of him, the part that wanted to do-right by his family, and the part that was infuriated, disgusted and fed-up with the fa ade they all put-on, warred in him constantly. He didn’t need to ask Dr. Erik to know it wasn’t healthy. That didn’t make it any easier, either.  
  
He flashed to a memory of Justin, standing on their hill and admitting that seventeen, he had been so ready to be queer. Once he’d realized what he was he’d embraced it. Brian had never been like that. He’d gone through a period where suspicions about his sexuality had rolled around in his head. He’d fucked around a bit in high school, his first experience being with his gym teacher. But once he’d hit college, he’d still fought it. He’d slept with several women, hoping each time that maybe he’d feel something for one of them. After that, he’d had no choice but to admit he was gay. For all intents and purposes, he’d embraced it. He’d gone through men left right and centre. He still couldn’t brings himself to tell his family. Not even when his father had told him he was dying of cancer, Brian just couldn’t do it. At the time it was because he believed so strongly that it was no one’s business.  
  
It wasn’t anyone’s business. But the fact remained that there was a certain amount of relief, and maybe a bit of closure that could be had from coming out, and Brian didn’t have that, because he couldn’t bring himself to do it.   
  
“Brian,” Joan called, her voice loud enough to be heard inside the loft, where Brian had been ignoring her incessant knocking. “I have your favourite, chocolate chocolate chip.”   
  
“Fuck it,” Brian said. He answered the door and let her in. The woman was drinking herself into her grave, and he didn’t want to deal with her bible-thumping ballistics at that moment. It could wait.   
  
............................  
  
“I’m painting a mural,” Justin told Brian and Emmett happily as they sat with Michael at one of the picnic tables in the garden.  
  
“It’s not of me naked, is it?” Brian asked.  
  
“That was one sketch! One sketch, and suddenly your naked self is all I draw!” Justin said. Brian snickered. He’d found the sketch when he’d been looking through Justin’s work. Justin had been embarrassed, but had merely shrugged it off. Brian couldn’t resist teasing the young blond about it, however.  
  
“It’s really cool,” Michael said. “I’m helping a bit.”  
  
“Daphne asked Mr. Montgomery, and he was all excited. And I get paid,” Justin said.  
  
“You’re getting paid?” Michael asked.  
  
“Yeah!” Justin said, his excitement infecting everyone.  
  
“Like, actual dollars?” Michael asked.  
  
“No, he’s paying me in Monopoly money,” Justin said.  
  
“Well, how come I’m not getting paid?” Michael asked.  
  
“I’m doing all the work!” Justin said. Brian rolled his eyes and Emmett covered his mouth, hoping no one noticed his laughter.  
  
“I’m handing you brushes, and collecting those popsicle things so you can fish-out your paint,” Michael said.  
  
“Yeah, and I said I’d give you a small cut,” Justin said.  
  
“Okay then,” Michael agreed easily.  
  
“Anyway, I’ve been working on the sketch all week,” Justin finished. Brian found it amusing that he’d been informed of the new rolling chairs and the various adventures Michael and Justin had been on with those chairs before he’d heard about the mural, then again, with the way Justin was looking at him, it seemed to be the more significant topic, even if Justin threw it out there as if it were nothing big. So Brian congratulated him, and Justin spent the rest of the day positively beaming.  
  
.........................  
  
“Brian!” Brian stopped on his way into Babylon and looked around. Sure enough, clad in mango-coloured leather pants and a white gauzey shirt stood Emmett, his long arms waving from midway down the line.  
  
“Who’s that?” Ben asked.  
  
“Are those paints actually mango-coloured?” David asked.  
  
“Get your ass over here, Honeycutt,” Brian called.  
  
“Ooh! It’s so exciting to see you here!” Emmett said as he bounced over to the group. “And you look so marvellous! Who are your friends?”  
  
Brian smirked at David’s reaction to the vibrant man. David was a chiropractor and as reserved as you could get without becoming a redneck, Bible-thumping homophobe. “This is Ben Bruckner,” Brian introduced, Ben smiled and shook Emmett’s hand. “And his ... boyfriend ... David Cameron.” David looked a bit constipated, but he shook Emmett’s hand just the same.  
  
“Well, I feel like I’ve known all of you for forever,” Emmett said. “I’m Emmett Honeycutt. I was at Liberty Hospital with Brian. That place works miracles. I was in there for my panic, and believe me, they just fix you right up!” Brian was snickering, but Emmett seemed right at home, falling into conversation with Ben, and they cut the line to Babylon.  
  
.....................  
  
Ben was dancing with David, but he was watching Brian. Since Brian’s return, Ben had been having trouble adjusting to the new Brian. When he’d first met David, he had been attracted to the idea of a steady, stable relationship. They were the perfect match, neither one into the party-life, both enjoying a good book. Brian had rolled his eyes and made all sorts of cracks at their expense, but Ben had really believed that this was it, this was what love was supposed to be like.  
  
Brian had returned from Liberty greatly changed, however. He didn’t do drugs, he barely tricked, and then only when he needed his needs met. He went dancing and drank with his friends and played pool. Brian’s return had coincided with Ben’s realization that while he hadn’t been into partying, he’d enjoyed casual nights out on Liberty, playing pool at Woody’s, dancing at Babylon. David wasn’t into either. And most of the time, David was cool and condescending to Brian. Ben had known Brian for a long while, and his loyalty, first and foremost, was with his friend. He couldn’t help but admit that David wasn’t quite what Ben had been hoping for. Now, though, it seemed like Brian might be.  
  
“There’s some weird dynamic going on between you and your friends,” Emmett said, sipping at his cosmo and leaning against the bar. He raised his eyebrows at Brian, then turned his head dramatically to look to where Ben and David were dancing.  
  
“What?” Brian asked.  
  
“I mean, hunka-liscious over there has been making Bambi-eyes at you all night,” Emmett said.  
“Ben’s a happily married man,” Brian snarked. “And I’m not interested.”   
  
“Well, Honey, I just call it as I see it,” Emmett said with a shrug. “I don’t suppose you dance?”  
  
Because Brian wasn’t the sort of man to say ‘Not with any sort of skill’, he said “No.” and left it at that.   
  
Emmett shrugged. “Well, I’m going to go shake a tail-feather,” Emmett said, and pushed away from the bar. Brian spared a glance to where Ben and David were dancing. He hoped Emmett was wrong, but he thought, probably not. It was just like how his luck had been going that Ben would start trying to pick-up what they had started when they’d first met. Ben had been a trick, nothing special just entertainment when Brian had been at the White Party. Except, once he’d returned to Pittsburgh, Ben had been at Babylon and Woody’s, and had been excited to see a familiar face in a new town.   
  
He’d moved to Pittsburgh because he’d got a job as a professor at Carnegie Melon. After bumping into each other frequently around town, Ben and Brian had become friends, but Brian had made it clear that ‘friends’ was all they were.  
  
Between his mother playing ‘happy family’; Dr. Erik’s ‘homework assignment’; his own frustrations with the sense of something vital missing; his Liberty visits and constant worries about Justin; the last thing Brian needed was Ben trying to pursue something that would never happen. Brian wasn’t a fan of David; he was condescending, conceited and a bit of a prude. Still, Brian would rather see Ben with David that chasing after him.  
  
His cell-phone rang, and he tossed back a Beam, flagging the bartender down for a refill as he answered it. “Brian!” his sister’s voice was unmistakable. “I need you to watch the boys tomorrow, I have a doctor’s appointment, and mom is going to a church group that’s meeting for the whole day!”  
  
“Un-fucking-believable,” Brian muttered.  


\----------------------------------

End Chapter Four:


	5. Room for One More

* * *

 

Lillian Taylor-Sommers patted her tears dry with a white, monogrammed handkerchief, used big words and long explanations, and ended her veritable monologue with a pat of Justin’s hands. “She loved you very much,” she said. “And she missed you every day that you were away.”  
  
“Do my parents know?” Justin asked, his voice hoarse from his own tears.  
  
“No, Honey. I didn’t tell them. This is all yours, and you don’t have to worry about anyone taking it from you. Your grandmother made sure of that.”  
  
“How’s mom taking it?” Justin asked.  
  
“As well as she can. The house and all Marianne’s other possessions were to be split equally between the two of us. We’ve had our hands full with it, but she’s doing okay.”  
  
“Thank-you,” Justin said, and hugged his aunt. She’d come a long way to give him the news personally. The news, and the last gift his grandmother would ever give him. He had no idea what he was going to do with it all. He certainly would never have to worry about being forced out of Liberty due to lack of funds.   
..........................  
  
“He’s still there?” Daphne asked, peering through the small window into Justin’s room. She could see Justin sitting on the bed, not sketching or sleeping, but staring out the window. She wondered if he even saw the view.  
  
“Yeah, we should let him be,” Debbie said. “His aunt, Lillian, said that he was really close to his grandma. It’s got to be hard on him.”  
  
“Rose was saying that he got a lot of money,” Daphne said. “That Justin was planning on using it to leave here, get a place of his own.”  
  
Debbie laughed, cynically. “Honey, I don’t think he’s thinking about anything except the loss of his grandma. And Sunshine’s worried about leaving this place, anyway. There’s a lot to adjust to. He’s been here for over two years now. He was living with his parents before -- a nice sheltered life -- and then he’s going to go out, on his own, without anyone around to support him. Without people looking out for his health and talking to him about what he’s thinking. That’s a big leap. If you ask me, he isn’t ready to move-out all by himself.”  
  
“He thinks more and more about doing it, though. I mean, he talks about it, especially after Saturday and getting all those visitors. He won’t be completely alone, Emmett and Molly would definitely visit him all the time, and even if he’d like us to think otherwise, Brian would too.”  
  
“Visiting isn’t the same as having people right there for you, available every day, whenever you need them, in a moment’s notice.”  
  
“Yeah, I remember transitioning between staying in the dorms at school and coming home. Suddenly I couldn’t fling open my door and scream that I was going to the pub and expect a stampede of friends to follow me,” Daphne agreed.  
  
..........................  
  
It was overwhelming to think about it, that his grandmother had passed away. Then again, Justin hadn’t seen her in over four years. His mother and his grandmother had a falling out, and suddenly there were no summer trips down to visit her. He’d spoken with her over the phone, but that wasn’t the same. And now she was gone.  
  
She had been the very first person he had told when he had realized he was gay. She was supportive, and after Craig had threatened him, she had known something was happening even though Justin had never spoken a word about what his father had said or done, or about how terrified he was. She’d known, and her last act had been to finally and decisively liberate him from it.  
  
“I can afford my own place,” Justin thought. “I can leave here.” Except the place he’d buy wouldn’t be a home. Couldn’t be one. He’d be completely independent, completely alone. He wasn’t ready for it. Being alone scared him, and he could never manage it for very long. His panic-attacks had lessened, but they were still there. He wasn’t sure that he could ever leave Liberty and be the same person he was inside.   
  
Lindsay soothed his fears, assuring him that he could still keep-up his therapy, could still visit; whatever he needed. It wasn’t enough. He could leave, and then stop talking again, and then what? He had no control over himself anymore. The panic attacks, the way he shut down at times. And if he were alone, who was to know if something happened?   
  
........................  
  
Brian arrived late to Liberty Hospital. He made it a point, usually, to spend as much of the day with Justin as he could, however that Saturday he had been prevented by phone calls and Ben and now it was almost lunchtime. He anticipated having to track Justin down, checking the places the blond usually ate, but instead he stepped out of the car and shut the door, and then was assaulted by a force that pushed him against the Jeep and proceeded to kiss him.  
  
“Hello,” Brian said, his tongue in his cheek.  
  
“I’ve been waiting for hours!” Justin said. “I’m starving! Let’s go.” Justin turned on his heel and headed up the stairs and into Liberty. Brian followed at a slower pace.  
  
He’d noticed that there were always more people there at the first Saturday of every month. Some people travelled quite a distance to visit their family member. He rarely saw anyone upset on Saturdays, everyone was on their best behaviour.   
  
They ate lunch in Justin’s room, what had been ‘their’ room until Brian had been released. Brian watched Justin carefully, noting how he pushed more food around his plate than he placed in his mouth, and that the young blond couldn’t seem to sit still. Or keep quiet.  
  
“Emmett already came, he couldn’t stay long because a friend of someone who works with him at that clothing store, well, they fired their wedding planner because the guy was a jerk, and Emmett had volunteered to take over. He had some crazy meeting today. The whole wedding sounds really bizarre.”  
  
Brian listened to descriptions of the rose-themed wedding that appeared to be carried a bit far as he cleared their tray and walked with Justin out to the garden, and then to their place. Before he finally turned to Justin and raised both his eyebrows.   
  
“What?” Justin said, halting his chatter immediately. Brian continued to look at him and Justin sighed and looked away. “It’s just that my grandma died last week. And on Wednesday, my aunt Lillian came to visit me and tell me about it.” Brian didn’t offer his sympathies, but he placed a hand on the back of Justin’s neck and sat silently as Justin described his grandmother -- the aged, but feisty woman who was nothing like the timid WASP Brian had met. He wondered how this woman Justin was describing could have raised Jennifer Taylor.   
  
After Justin had run-out of words, or been overwhelmed by thoughts of the woman who had unceasingly supported him, Brian sat down on the grass and held Justin, as the blond buried his head in his shirt and pleaded with him “Don’t talk. Just hold me.” So Brian did.  
  
Brian hadn’t had any family that had been there for him the way Justin had described his grandmother had been there. He hadn’t seen much of his father’s parents because they lived in Ireland. There was a vague memory of one Christmas when they had flown in, but they seemed less than impressed with their son and had left quickly. His mother’s parents had been dead since he was two. He hadn’t been old enough to remember their visits, he imagined that they were as bad as his mother and was secretly always thankful that he had not had a chance to get to know them.   
  
It wasn’t long before Justin fell asleep, and Brian sat there trying to get his thoughts in order. He mulled over various campaign ideas, made a mental to-do list for the coming Monday and then simply relaxed before movement from Justin alerted him to the young man’s waking.  
  
“Better?”   
  
“Mm?” Justin asked, slightly confused, before he figured-out the question. “Oh, yeah I haven’t been sleeping much. Lindsay’s been trying to focus me on dealing with my grandmother’s loss, and developing healthy ideas on what to do with the money.”  
  
“Money?” Brian asked.  
  
Justin nodded. “My grandmother left it to me. All her money. I don’t see the point of it. It’s not like I really need it.”  
  
“You might,” Brian said, speaking slowly because he could hardly believe they were having this discussion. “If you left Liberty.”  
  
“And where would I go?” Justin asked. “I have nowhere.”  
  
Brian grasped Justin’s chin and turned the blond to look him in the eye. “You’re wrong,” he said with absolute certainty. Justin opened his mouth to argue and then frowned, catching something in Brian’s tone, in his expression. And then they simply stared at each other.  
  
..............................  
  
“It looks really great!” Daphne said when she entered the rec room. It had been closed-off to general use for some time while it got prepped for Justin’s mural. A painter had come through to repaint the room, and he primed the wall for Justin, and now the room was entirely Justin’s own. Not like anyone would want to relax there, the smell of paint was strong, even with the windows open, and all the furniture was shoved against the far wall, the floor covered by a drop-cloth.  
  
Justin had sketched his plan roughly on the wall. There were familiar faces at the corners, making a sort of border. None of the faces were painted yet, but Daphne could still pick-out a few of the staff and some of the patients. At the centre of the mural was a sketch of Liberty Hospital drawn crudely as if done by a child, and surrounding that were smaller, detailed pictures of different scenes.   
  
“What’s wrong?” Daphne asked, when Justin didn’t acknowledge her compliment simply stared at the mural and chewed on the end of his paintbrush.   
  
“What?” Justin asked, turning to face her and looking somewhat surprised by her presence.  
  
“What is wrong?” she said, enunciating clearly.  
  
“I think Brian asked me to move in with him,” Justin said.  
  
“What?” Daphne asked. “You think? You’re not sure? How can you not be sure?”  
  
“I told him about my grandmother and the money, and he said I could leave Liberty. I said that was crazy, because I had nowhere he to go. And then gave me this really intense look and said I was wrong.”  
  
“Holy shit!” Daphne said. “Brian asked you to move in with him.”  
  
“But he didn’t really,” Justin said. “Something that important, you need to be really formal and clear about it.”  
  
“Justin,” Daphne said.  
  
“I mean, it’s a huge thing, and we don’t really know each other, and this is coming out of nowhere,” Justin continued.  
  
“Justin!”  
  
“And he’s got his own life! He can’t just take me in, I mean, I can’t just freeload on him!”  
  
“Why don’t you ask him, then?” Daphne said.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Ask him. Tell him, you weren’t really clear what he was talking about,” Daphne said. “Just ask him.”  
  
“But I can’t,” Justin said.  
  
“Why not?”  
  
“It would ruin the moment!” Justin said. “It was really intense. I mean, I didn’t know what the hell was really going on, but I could feel it was significant.”  
  
Daphne was laughing and shaking her head. “Justin, it’s Sunday. The moment has passed. Now you’re confused and you need to ask him. Otherwise all this angsting and fretting you’re doing is over nothing.”  
  
“Well, great. Now I have to wait for Saturday,” Justin said.  
  
“Or you could just call him,” Daphne said with a shrug.  
  
“That’s totally against Liberty policy,” Justin said.  
  
“To hell with Liberty policy. And anyway, I’m allowed to authorize patient phone calls if I believe it to be beneficial to the patient’s state of mind. So,” she turned on her heel and headed towards the door.  
  
“Daphne, you’re crazy!” he said. “You don’t even have his phone number.”  
  
“But I have his record, on which he wrote his phone number,” Daphne said.  
  
“Daphne! Daphne, you’re going to get in big trouble!” Justin said, the door to the rec room closed behind Daphne. “Daphne!” He ran after her.  
  
He found her in the nurse’s station, which was empty because it was late and most of the nurses were doing room checks. “Okay, it was funny, you got me. Ha ha, now put the phone down,” Justin said.  
  
Daphne grinned at him, and then cleared her throat. “Liberty Hospital calling for Brian Kinney. Oh, hello Brian!”  
  
...........................  
  
Brian climbed off the bed, tossed the condom in the trash and headed to the bathroom. “Oh, we’re finished. You can go,” he said. The trick on the bed looked confused, and then shook his head.  
  
“Well, I walked into this with my eyes wide-open. My friends told me you were an asshole, but they said you were a great fuck, too. I weighed the two and decided it was worth it.”   
  
“Good for you,” Brian said. He was about to go for a shower when the phone rang.  
  
“I’ll see myself out,” the trick muttered when Brian walked passed him, still naked, to answer the phone.  
  
“Hello?” He recognized Daphne’s voice immediately, and wondered if something had happened. Maybe there was some kind of accident. Maybe Justin was hurt.   
  
“Hold please!” Daphne said. She sounded far too chipper for it to be serious. He sighed and waited. There might have been muffled curses and banging audible on the Liberty end of the line but Brian was distracted because the trick who was now fully clothed, was sucking and licking his way down Brian’s body.  
  
“Brian?” a voice came over the line. It took a moment for Brian to recognize it.  
  
“We’re done,” Brian said, pushing the trick away.  
  
“What?” Justin asked, sounding suddenly hoarse.  
  
“Not you, hold on,” Brian said. He covered the phone and glared, pointing a finger to the door.  
  
“Fine,” the trick said, and headed out.   
  
Brian waited until the door had slid closed. “Justin?” he asked.  
  
“Brian.”  
  
“...You called me?” Brian asked.  
  
“No!” Justin said. “Wait. Yes!” Justin said. “Well, Daphne did. I told her not to -- I’m sorry if I interrupted something ...”  
  
“Justin,” Brian said, cutting off the young man’s ramblings. “What’s wrong?”  
  
“Nothing. I’m fine,” Justin said. “Why? Is something wrong?” Brian thought he could hear Daphne laughing in the background. He had to admit, he’d never heard the blond sound so scattered.   
  
“Why did you phone? Or Daphne, or whoever,” Brian said, trying to prevent Justin from rambling some more.  
  
He could hear the deep breath Justin took, and smiled a little. He could even imagine the bracing expression on Justin’s face. “It’s about yesterday,” Justin said.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“I just don’t understand,” Justin said. “What you meant.”  
  
“I thought it was pretty clear,” Brian said, tongue in cheek.  
  
There was a pause, and then “Could you maybe make it clearer?”  
  
Brian pinched the bridge of his nose and paced his loft. He didn’t like talking; he wasn’t any good at it. He nearly tripped over Gus-bear who must have been catapulted off the bed during the vigorous bout of fucking that he and the trick had just engaged in.   
  
Picking-up the teddy bear he adjusted the purple shirt, and then scanned the floor until he found the sunglasses, placing them back on the bear’s face. “Gus is a place holder,” Brian said, thinking aloud about how he knew something was missing, but had tried to avoid putting a name to it. He’d always known, though. “There’s a place for you here.”  
  
It was quiet on the other end of the line. Brian considered checking to see if Justin was still there, but if he strained his ears, he could hear Justin’s shuddering breaths. “But then,” Justin said, his voice coming out rushed. He stopped and was silent for a second, and then in a teasing tone, asked, “Is there enough room? I mean, you and Gus. You’re both complete queens and you take-up a lot of space.”  
  
Brian smirked, and looked down at the teddy bear again. “I think there’s room for one more.”  


 ----------------------

End Chapter Five:


	6. Four Walls and the Right Person

* * *

 

The box was a bit worse for wear, frequent handling had made the cardboard pliable, but Vic carried it through the halls like a gold medal. Pushing the door open with his foot, he entered the room and grinned when Justin smiled his sunshine smile. “Well, here you are,” Vic said as he placed the box on the bed.  
  
“Thank-you,” Justin said as he pried open the top flaps and peered inside. He'd forgotten what he'd had when he first came to Liberty. His parents had packed his bag, since he had no idea that he was leaving. There were a few books, his regular clothes, and changes of underwear, a warm jacket and boots. The backpack it had been packed in was there, as were some of the things that had been removed from his toiletry kit. Liberty staff had washed everything, and his clothes smelled fresh. Justin smiled at Vic.  
  
“Congratulations, kiddo,” Vic said, clapping a hand on Justin’s back and smiling. “I’ll let you pack and get dressed."  
  
It felt unreal. As he pulled on his clothes, Justin kept wondering if maybe Brian wouldn’t show-up. If maybe this was just a trick. But then again, he trusted Brian. It was mid-October, so Justin pulled on his coat, and then stuffed everything into the backpack. He sat on his bed, wondering when Brian would come to pick him up.  
  
.......................  
  
Brian had arrived early, knowing that Justin was likely anxious. He’d made it inside Building Three and was partway up the stairs before Lindsay had redirected him into one of the side offices.  
  
She’d given him a rundown of Justin’s progress, concluding that it was a good time for him to leave Liberty, but that he would need to continue his weekly sessions. She’d said that Justin was working on the mural, and that it was far from complete. It would make sense if Justin worked-out a schedule to work weekly on the mural, and he’d have a session then, just for convenience.   
  
All in all, Lindsay sounded like a mother parting with her child, and Brian had to explain that he wasn’t planning on neglecting anything regarding Justin’s health. To which Lindsay responded by handing over a contact to a therapist for Justin, several sheets of paper regarding ‘the care and feeding’ of one Justin Taylor. His allergies were quite the list, including Tylenol, which Brian had to admit he’d never heard of.   
  
“He’s going to be a bit unsteady, you understand?” Lindsay said. “He’s been in Liberty for two and a half years, this is going to be an adjustment. Try to keep things steady and predictable for a while, work out a schedule so that he can relax at home. And you’re going to have to be patient, Brian, and supportive. He’s going to be thrown off by all this.”   
  
“It’s not anything I hadn’t figured out for myself,” Brian said, finally, when it was nearing lunchtime. “I’m sure everything will be fine, but if there’s a problem I’ll call.” He took the pages and headed out in the direction of Justin’s room.  
  
............................  
  
“You ready to go?” Daphne asked, peering into Justin’s room. Justin nodded his head. “It’s kind of happening really fast, isn’t it?” Justin nodded again. Daphne crossed into the room and sat on the bed beside him. “I have a story for you.”  
  
“What is it?”   
  
“When my parents got divorced, I was really upset. I was little and I had a lot of trouble adjusting, and understanding it wasn’t my fault and all that. It was like, as soon as I got used to it just being me and mom, then my mom hooks-up with some new guy, and they were pretty serious. She asked me what I felt about her marrying him, and I couldn’t understand her. She said to me, a home is just four walls containing the right person[i]and that, for her, I made our house a home. I was the right person, so if I wasn’t happy, she wouldn’t remarry.”  
  
“Did she?”  
  
“Yeah, it was the same for me, and I knew I could adjust to Clark, because he made my mom really happy. Now, he's like, the greatest step-dad ever. The moral being, when you start feeling overwhelmed, and like maybe you made the wrong choice, ask yourself if Brian’s the right person, because if he is, then coming back to Liberty would mean leaving your home.” They grinned at each other, and hugged. “And you better keep in touch. You have a mural to finish.”  
  
“You’re a freak,” Justin said. She grinned happily and gave him a hug before she left.  
  
..............................  
  
“Ready?” Brian asked from the doorway.  
  
“I thought you weren’t coming!” Justin said, and then turned a bit red, as if he hadn’t meant to say that.  
  
“Lindsay, apparently, is quite attached to you,” Brian said. “That your stuff?”  
  
“That’s all of it.” Justin’s worldly possessions fit entirely into one backpack, with the exception of any art-related things, all of which fit into the portfolio Brian had brought.   
  
Brian sighed and decided he had to pace himself. First things first. “Well, let’s go. We’ll pick-up your first meal of non-Liberty food to celebrate your liberation. What do you feel like?”  
  
“Pizza,” Justin answered immediately. Brian could imagine Blake swooning and throwing a tantrum, but nodded just the same. He could eat pizza just this once.   
  
The driveway of Liberty Hospital was crowded with people, patients and staff, all of them calling good-bye. “We had a huge party last night,” Justin explained. “It was really cool.” Brian waited while Justin worked his way through the crowd, saying good-bye to everyone, and then breathed a sigh of relief when Justin was finally in the front seat of the Jeep.  
  
........................  
  
To Justin, the trip to his new home felt like the time Liberty had gone on a field trip to the forest and Debbie had them put on blindfolds while a partner led them through the woods. Justin didn’t know where they were going, except that Brian lived in the city. He didn’t know what he would find when they got there: a house? An apartment? He felt off-balance, nervous and mostly, like he had absolute trust that Brian would get him to wherever they were going, that Brian wouldn’t let him trip.  
  
........................  
  
Justin was quiet for the entire half-hour drive into Pittsburgh. He followed Brian across the street and up the stairs. At the door of the loft, Brian handed over a spare set of keys he’d had made, on a keychain that said “princess” and stepped back, allowing Justin to do the honours.   
  
“You have a really nice place,” Justin said, gaping at the loft. He ran his fingers over the back of the sofa, touched one of the metal columns, and stared at the large windows. “I like your kitchen.”   
  
Brian smirked. He’d heard compliments like that before, but Justin seemed really in awe of the space. “Bedroom’s through there,” he said, gesturing to the bedroom area. “And the bathroom as well.”  
  
“There’s only one bed,” Justin said as he stood at the top of the steps.  
  
“Will that be a problem?” Brian asked, surprised to find he was actually prepared to do something about that if Justin said it was.  
  
Justin just grinned. “No, just checking.” He walked forward into the room, and then Brian heard his laughter. Brian smirked, knowing what the blond had found.  
  
Gus-bear was sitting on the dresser, a dozen colourful balloons tied to his little bear-paw. Justin picked up the teddy, and freed his paw, allowing the balloons to float to the ceiling. “Where should I put my stuff?”  
  
“The drawers,” Brian said, as if that were obvious -- which it was. He set Justin’s portfolio by the desk, and then followed Justin into the bedroom, showing him the drawers he’d cleared-out. Brian had made space in his closet as well, but it looked as if he wouldn’t need it. He supposed he could ask the Taylors for Justin’s things, but it made more sense and was easier in general if they just started from scratch.  
  
It didn’t take Justin long at all to unpack, and while he did Brian placed the order for the pizza. “It’s so quiet,” Justin said when he came down from the bedroom. He’d pulled-on a sweater and was nervously fiddling with the edge of the sleeve.  
  
“That’s easily fixed,” Brian commented, he turned the TV on and Justin smiled.   
  
“Movie night,” he said.   
  
“Except I have a bigger selection,” Brian commented. Justin settled onto the couch beside Brian, and flipped channels until they found ‘Stand By Me’. The pizza came, which they ate while watching the movie. By the time the central characters were running from the guard dog in the salvage yard, Justin was resting against Brian’s side, and when two of the boys were almost rundown by a train, Justin was fast asleep. Brian watched the rest of the movie, formulating a list of things that they had to do the following day.  
  
“Is it over?” Justin asked, lifting his head off Brian’s chest and rubbing his eyes. In response to Brian’s raised eyebrows Justin grinned and shrugged. “I’m tired.”  
  
“Then it’s time for bed,” Brian said. Justin had relaxed as they watched (and slept through) the movie, but he became hesitant at the suggestion. Brian got around it by ignoring it completely and behaving entirely casual. Soon Justin was standing happily beside him at the sink brushing his teeth.  
  
At the hospital, Brian had always worn the uniform bottoms in deference to his roommate, but had left his top off because he’d never liked to sleep clothed. This was different, though, because it was home. Brian slept in the nude, that’s how he was comfortable, that’s what he did. He pretended not to notice the bathroom door close after he stepped out of it, and instead hung-up his things and climbed into bed. When Justin stepped out of the bathroom he was wearing a white long-sleeved shirt and his underwear.  
  
Brian watched as the blond hesitantly climbed into bed and thought that it was the very first time anyone had ever climbed into his bed with clothes on. Brian flicked off the main light, but left the blue lights on, though he wasn’t sure why. Justin shifted in bed and looked at him. “It’s nice,” he said. “With the light.”  
  
“What are you doing all the way over there?” Brian asked. “It’s not like we’ve never done this before.” Justin grinned and shifted shyly until his body was pressed close to Brian’s. Brian hadn’t ever been one to cuddle, but months ago the same blond boy that was now in his arms hadn’t given him a choice, and he’d gotten used to it.  
  
Justin let out a long sigh, just like he always did once he’d settled-in, and Brian smirked and closed his eyes. On the bedside table, where he had been left, Gus-bear leaned against the alarm clock, his shades still in place.  
  
............................  
  
Brian awoke to the soft sound of sizzling and someone humming. For a moment, he wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but it flooded back to him quickly and he groaned. “What are you doing up?” he asked as he made his way over to the kitchen.  
  
Justin grinned and handed him a mug of coffee. “I couldn’t help it,” he said. “They’re about to do morning checks at Liberty.” Justin was already washed and dressed, and making breakfast. He was unnaturally awake, in Brian’s opinion.   
  
“We’re going to have to break you of this habit,” Brian said.  
  
“You forgot your clothes,” Justin said.  
  
“No I didn’t,” Brian said, eyeing Justin to see if his nudity made the blond uncomfortable. Justin had been fine with it last night, though Brian had to admit it was very difficult to remain disinterested with Justin pressed close to him sleeping.  
  
“Okay,” Justin said. “Just checking. I used the last of your eggs, by the way. You don’t have a lot in your fridge.”  
  
“I don’t eat breakfast,” Brian answered, setting his coffee down on the table.  
  
“Really?” Justin asked, placing a plate in front of him. There was an omelette and slices of fresh pepper. Brian took one look at the raised blond eyebrows and new that this was non-negotiable. He picked up his fork, and Justin brought another plate to the other side of the table.  
  
The table was set formally, and Justin was sitting back straight, wide-awake and eating primly in a way Brian had never seen the blond do at the hospital. He was certain he looked ridiculous, sitting naked opposite Justin, but he hadn’t had enough coffee to care, and Justin didn’t seem bothered by it. “You don’t need to make breakfast,” Brian said.  
  
“I like cooking,” Justin said. “It’s very relaxing. And we have to come-up with some kind of payment schedule or something, so I can pay rent here.”  
  
“What?” Brian asked.  
  
“We split costs; I can do it, I have the money. And I don’t want to just be some kept-boy or something.”  
  
Brian could practically hear Lindsay or Dr. Erik advising him that this would aid Justin’s adjustment, so he just shrugged and didn’t argue. He could always put the money into a separate account for emergencies. He didn’t need Justin’s money and he didn’t want to take it, but he could see where Justin would need to give it to him and stayed silent.   
  
“This isn’t bad,” Brian said with some surprise when he actually sampled the omelette.  
  
“I know,” Justin said with a devilish grin. “When do you leave for work?”  
  
“I don’t,” Brian said. “Not today.”  
  
“Why not?” Justin asked. “You don’t need to baby-sit me, I can take care of myself.”  
  
“I’m well aware of that,” Brian said, answering cautiously. In truth, he’d taken the day off to be with Justin and make sure the blond was settling in. Apparently, though, it wasn’t wise to tell said blond that. “But like you said, we need groceries, and I haven’t taken a vacation in a while.”  
  
“So what was Liberty?” Justin asked with a smirk.  
  
“Court ordered holidays do not count,” Brian said.  
  
After another cup of coffee, Brian took his plate to the dishwasher and then went to get dressed. When he came down the steps again it was to find Justin sitting on the couch sketching. It seemed absolutely right that he should be there, and any doubts that Brian had about his decision to have the blond move-in disappeared.   
  
Of course, by the time they made it into the grocery store, those doubts began to resurface. “That’s it?” Justin asked.  
  
“What?” Brian asked.  
  
“You’ve put one carton of guava juice and one zucchini in the cart. And don’t think I missed that whole thing with that greasy guy over there. I know why that zucchini is in the cart,” Justin said.  
  
Brian stuck his tongue in his cheek and picked up the zucchini. He twisted it around and inspected it. Then he smiled a devilish smile. “Well, I can chop it up and use it in a salad or something,” Justin said casually. Brian looked down at the zucchini and grimaced. Justin kissed his cheek. “Hey, there’s a sale on chocolate! I love chocolate!” And Justin was off towards the candy isle to pick-up chocolate.  
  
He supposed it was because it had been so long since Justin could go food shopping, at least he hoped that was why they had basically cleaned-out the entire store. “I’ll pay!” Justin said, but Brian was closer to the register and had swiped his card before Justin made it out from behind the cart. Brian mimicked Justin’s earlier actions and kissed the blond’s cheek. Justin poked him ruthlessly in the side with the zucchini, and Brian vowed to never purchase zucchini again.  
  
“Is this okay?” Justin asked somewhat nervously when they were back in the Jeep, groceries piled in the backseat. Brian was reminded of why he preferred Justin acting like a shit; at least he was relaxed when he was doing it.  
  
Brian glanced over to Justin and shrugged. “It’s not bad,” he said, and Justin beamed at him, and then settled back in his seat.  
  
“I’m going to make jambalaya tonight,” Justin said. “I’ve never made it before. I hope it turns out okay!”  
  


\-------------------------  
End Chapter Six:  
  
  
[i] ‘A home is only four walls that enclose the right person’ quote from Helen Rowland’s “Reflection of a Bachelor Girl”


	7. The Care and Maintenance of Justin Taylor

* * *

“Try not to burn the loft down,” Brian said, reaching across the table and snagging one of the sliced peppers Justin usually served at breakfast. Brian had soon learned that Justin liked the sweetness of the red ones best.

“Have a good day at work, dear,” Justin teased in a falsetto.

“Christ,” Brian snarked. Justin laughed and waved Brian out the door. He’d officially lived at the loft for three days and three nights, and Brian couldn’t have been happier to see Justin settling in. “Oh, that would be your babysitter,” Brian said when someone buzzed. He pressed the button to allow the person entry while Justin huffed.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Justin said.

“After yesterday, I’m not taking any chances,” Brian said.

In an effort to find a place to store Brian’s large collection of shoes which were ‘summer wear’ apparently, he’d pulled a chair to the closet and proceeded to clear a place for the shoe boxes on the top shelf. He’d discovered a large black box pushed towards the back. Curiosity having gotten the better of him, Justin had reached on his tiptoes to pull the box out, but he’d lost balance and the box had tipped over and spilled its contents down on Justin, who had fallen onto the floor. In anticipation of Justin’s presence in the loft, Brian had cleared all his sex-toys from the drawer by the bed where he usually kept them, and it was these that now came spilling out, pelting Justin as the blond stared wide-eyed at the dildos and beads and various and sundry toys that had come tumbling out as if he’d opened Pandora’s box itself. Brian had made it to the top of the stares to see Justin laughing so hard tears streamed down his face, in a puddle of sex toys. “I can’t leave you alone for a minute!” Brian had complained. It had taken considerably more than a minute for Justin to stop laughing. He had bruises from some of the larger dildos that had fallen on him.

“Baby!” Emmett said, when Brian had pulled back the door.

“Emmett? What are you doing here?” Justin asked, running over and hugging his friend.

“Yes, yes, it’s all very touching, and we’re all so very happy. Excuse me, I have to go to work,” Brian snarked. He picked up his briefcase and stalked towards the door. “Remember to set the alarm,” Brian reminded.

“Sure,” Justin said. “Later.”

“Later,” Brian responded absently as he headed out.

“Oh my lord! I’m so excited!” Emmett said.

“But what are you doing here?” Justin asked.

“Well, Mr. I Have to Work phoned me and said that you, Honey, were in desperate need of some beautiful clothes! I’m more than happy to help, though he’s vetoed some of the stores I would highly recommend. I’m afraid we’re working with several restrictions, but I think we can manage.”

“Let me get my shoes and my wallet,” Justin said.

......................

They took the bus to the mall and proceeded to peruse every store -- within reason -- until Emmett declared it was time for a break. They ate food at the food court, and decided on a strategy.

They started with underwear. Justin couldn’t see how this was any of Emmett’s business, but the man kept bringing over different styles. “Ooh! These silky ones, I bet Brian would love those!”

“Why would Brian care about my underwear?” Justin asked, his face red.

“Honey,” Emmett said. “Tell me you’re not serious.” Justin turned even redder but added them to his pile.

“I think I’ve got enough,” Justin said. He’d vetoed some of the crazy undergarments Emmett had brought over, no stripes or bright colours. He stuck with plain white and plain black. They picked-up socks as well, before Justin purchased everything and they moved onto the next stage.

Justin liked the low-rise jeans they picked-out, and he picked-up cargo pants as well; and T-shirts, and plain shirts and sweaters. Because he knew he would be looking for a job soon, Justin picked-up some business-casual clothes. He was feeling very spoiled, even if he was paying for it all himself and by the time Emmett suggested they moved onto shoes and accessories, Justin was ready for another break.

“I think we’ve done quite well,” Emmett said. “And I bought you a little something special to celebrate your freedom.” They’d taken a cab back to the loft and Justin had spread all his purchases out surveying his accomplishment.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Justin said as Emmett handed him a bag. Emmett dismissed this comment with a wave of his hand and Justin opened the box. “You’re kidding, right?” he asked.

“They’ll look amazing!” Emmett said. “For clubbing! You’ve got to experience Babylon, and in this, Honey, you’ll make a splash!”

Justin pulled out the black leather pants and the sheer black shirt that would offer just a hint of the skin it covered. “Thanks Em,” Justin said, though he wasn’t certain he’d ever wear something like that out in public. He’d try it on in the bathroom and see how he looked. “I should probably put all this away before Brian gets home.”

“Oh Baby,” Emmett said. “I’m so happy for you!”

.........................

Brian’s day had been agony after agony. Files lost by incompetent once-employees, wire transfers getting delayed because of bank issues, ad boards looking like something a baby might cough up on noodle-night. He’d yelled, he’d paced, he’d pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t throw anything or punch a wall out, so he was certain both Lindsay and Dr. Erik would agree he had handled his stress quite well. The point was he just wanted to go home, drink a bottle of JB and collapse onto bed after watching some bad TV.

Stepping out of the elevator, Brian had his keys ready and the loft door was open in a minimal amount of time and just as quickly he became acquainted with the irritating, grating sound of pots striking pans. He took a bracing breath, reminding himself Justin was not responsible for his shitty day. Tried to prepare himself for Justin’s running description of his own day, because Brian was certain the blond at least had a good day and was now eager to share every second of it.

When he thought he was ready he closed the loft door and stepped forward, peered into the kitchen to see only Justin’s bottom half sticking out of a cupboard. He admired the view, but it raised his spirits only slightly.

Dropping his briefcase on the table, Brian was removing his suit jacket when Justin popped out of the cupboard and sprung-up to his feet with ease, his bright smile disappearing when he noticed Brian’s face. Brian wasn’t sure what he should say, was surprised he felt a bit guilty for bringing his bad mood home because it was dampening Justin’s good mood and the blond needed good memories. Still, it was his home as well, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to come and go from it as he pleased.

He was cut-off when Justin stepped forward and covered his mouth with one hand and kissed his temple. Then he was pushed up the stairs to the shower. Justin grinned a little and then pulled the bathroom door closed with just dramatic slowness that Brian got the point.

He showered and tried to put the day behind him, like Lindsay had taught him. Feeling a bit better when he was done and grateful enough that he thought he might be prepared to hear Justin’s monologue, Brian threw on some clothes and stepped out to the main living space, but the Justin only glared at him when he opened his mouth to speak, and so they ate the soup Justin had prepared silently. They left the dishes on the table as Brian was once again ushered in a direction, this time to the couch. Brian sprawled out while Justin flicked on the TV, and instead of sitting on one of the other chairs, Justin climbed onto Brian’s sprawled body and settled himself. Brian felt a gentle kiss placed at his throat and then got a mouthful of blond hair as Justin shimmied down and rested his head on Brian’s chest. So JB was replaced by JT, which just might be an improvement, Brian thought.

................................

Justin lasted four nights, which was huge, in his opinion. Still, that was four nights of climbing into bed beside Brian and dreading falling asleep. And since Justin didn’t do anything halfway, when it happened, it happened on a grand scale.

He slid into wakefulness like a baseball player sliding into home plate. He already knew what had happened, wasn’t quite sure how Brian would take it and didn’t think he was prepared to talk about it anyway, so he kept his eyes closed, tried to breathe and tried to put the images out of his mind.

Brian touched his shoulder, likely to comfort him or to catch his attention, but coming down from the nightmare as he was, the unexpected contact made Justin’s entire body jerk so violently he almost hopped right off the bed. “Justin,” Brian said, withdrawing his hand, but Justin could feel the bed shifting and knew Brian was sitting close to him.

“I’m sorry,” Justin said, covering his face with his hands. He listened to Brian let out a slow breath of air, and didn’t remove his hands from his face.

“Every night?” Brian asked.

“This is the first time since I came here,” Justin said, finally dropping his hands. “I should have told you, but I don’t think it occurred to me. I think I forgot about it, for a while.”

Brian nodded and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “This is why you didn’t have a roommate?”

“Part of it,” Justin confessed. “I used to be able to keep awake for a while, and then if I had a nightmare whoever was sharing the room would be so fast asleep I wouldn’t bother them.”

“I remember.”

“But now, I’m just loud. I can’t help it. Sometimes are worse than others. I spoke to Lindsay about it and she said if that made me uncomfortable, then I didn’t have to share a room. So I got the room to myself. I’m really sorry.”

“Justin,” Brian said. “Don’t be sorry, not for this, not for fucking anything.”

“Okay,” Justin said.

“Can you get back to sleep?” Brian asked. Justin shifted, digging through the sheets until he liberated Gus-bear from the tangle of bedding. Holding Gus-bear close, Justin turned his back to Brian and lay very still. Brian’s hand touched his waist, then moved slowly, like a snake, until his whole arm had looped around Justin’s middle, and Justin felt his body being pulled backward until he had settled against Brian’s chest.

“I think I can get back to sleep,” Justin said, smiling a little.

“Then do it,” Brian said. Justin closed his eyes.

...........................

Justin had decided to live off his inheritance for a while, until he got adjusted to living away from Liberty. He distracted himself with sketching, going for walks, and sometimes he’d visit the local galleries. Justin refused to tell Brian that sometimes the crowds on the sidewalk were daunting, so much so that he often ducked into a small store or coffee shop until he got his bearings.

Lindsay had already explained that this sort of reaction was to be expected, and Justin thought exposure to such environments in small amounts would help him adjust, so every day was a sort of test. He would go for a walk, see how he handled the crowds. On really good days he’d reward himself with a good book, or a video he’d always loved. On Saturday Justin had rewarded himself with ‘Yellow Submarine’, which had always been his favourite film, liking the animation as much as the music. He tried not to get lost in memories of all the times he’d watched it when he had been living with his parents as he’d walked home with his new purchase. For distraction, Justin had worked on convincing Brian that being ‘subjected to that crap’ was a good thing. He’d won, naturally, he always won; but he enjoyed the way Brian tried to resist.

Brian had brought home a black P-coat and a scarf saying it was so he would never have to look at the hideous thing Justin had been wearing up until then. It was getting cooler and Justin appreciated the warmer coat. They’d made-out after that. Justin was enjoying those small intimacies, but he wanted more so badly. Worry filled him, however, because he knew he wasn’t ready for everything. He wondered if he ever would be.

“First things, first,” Justin breathed, straightening his shoulders and heading out for his walk. He wasn’t going to let what Hobbes had done come between him and Brian. He wasn’t going to let that asshole win. He was going to get better, it wasn’t an option, it was a fact.

..................

A few days after Justin had moved in, Brian had purchased a drop cloth and a large easel. Justin had been sketching and using the supplies Brian had brought him when he had still been in hospital, but Brian thought Justin might want to paint. He went-up a few times a week to Liberty to work on the mural, and have a session with Lindsay. They’d gone to get the art supplies, and Brian had watched as Justin ran his fingers gently over every brushed, gaped at every canvas, handling everything with a reverence Brian had never seen.

Justin painted at odd hours, and when he did he got the paint all over himself. Brian had restricted him after the first day, to that same outfit whenever he was painting so that the blond didn’t ruin everything he had.

“I don’t even want to know how you got paint in your hair,” Brian said as Justin walked passed him, setting his cleaned brushes back in the canister by the easel.

“Shut up,” Justin said with a mock-glare. “I’m having a shower.” They’d made plans with Emmett to go to Woody’s. Brian didn’t want to jump right in and show Justin Babylon, he was still concerned about how the blond was adjusting. Justin tried to hide it, but he tensed and sometimes flinched when they were in large crowds. It made sense to go only with people Justin trusted and try something on a smaller scale. So Brian and Emmett had agreed and Woody’s was the place.

Flipping through channels, Brian finally settled on a show that he was only half paying attention to as he waited for Justin to shower. The knock on the door wasn’t entirely unexpected. He and Justin had made bets concerning Emmett, Justin convinced that he’d meet them at Woody’s as planned, Brian almost certain that Emmett would show-up at the loft to dress Justin and then get a ride over.

He had a witty comment on the tip of his tongue as he slid open the door, but he froze on the delivery because it wasn’t Emmett it was his mother. “Brian,” she greeted, pushing her way into the loft. She was carrying another cake, which she deposited on his counter. “I was just in the area and after Claire told me what you did for the boys, I’ve been meaning to ...”

“Brian! Do you think this would be ... Oh. Hi.” Justin’s skin was glistening, wet from the shower. His blond hair was tussled, and he was clad in only a towel. His right hand, which had frozen the moment he had seen their guest, was grasping one of his FCUK T-shirts that Brian would never admit to liking.

Brian watched as his mother’s eyes very slowly ran up the length of Justin’s body, settling on a very open and shocked expression that made Justin look even younger than he was. The little noise his mother made was something he had never heard, a cross between a whimper and a moan and something else, as if she were going to be physically ill right there.

Then she turned on her heel and sped for the door. “Mother,” Brian called, turning on his heel, ignoring Justin’s frantic apologetic expression.

“Don’t you dare!” his mother said, spinning back suddenly at the door. “Did your father know? Oh, Lord help me!” she moaned. “You’re going to hell for this! You’re burning in hell for this! Oh,” she seemed part enraged and part concerned for his welfare. “And with -- with that boy! -- Oh, Brian. It makes me sick. How could you? How could you?”

Brian was ready, armed with sarcasm and taunts, to carry on this grand Kinney tradition. The voice that followed Joan Kinney’s statement, however, was low and controlled, and the most threatening sound Brian had ever heard. “Get out of my home.”

“I--” Joan seemed just as shocked. She blinked and gaped slightly as ‘that boy’, still in only a towel, stalked forward, glaring. He was small, but Brian didn’t doubt that Justin would do serious damage. He could recognize the same dark expression that he had found on Justin’s face several months ago in a brightly painted room in solitary.

“Get out,” Justin said.

“Hey,” Brian said softly, intercepting Justin and pulling him close to his chest. “She’s leaving. Don’t let it throw you,” he said. Justin’s body was shaking in his arms, and he reached out with one arm to shut the loft door and lock it, his mother on the other side.

“How could she say those things!” Justin said, fighting against Brian’s embrace. Brian fought to maintain his hold, and finally Justin relaxed again and let out his breath, his body going somewhat limp. “Are you okay?”

Brian chuckled. “Nothing I hadn’t figured she’d say,” Brian said. Justin pressed a kiss to Brian’s chest, covered by a black silk shirt he’d planned on wearing out. “Come on.” Brian deposited Justin on the couch, poured them each a double shot of beam. Justin sat and stared at it a while before he knocked it back, gagging only a little.

“I’m going to go get dressed,” Justin said, his voice sounding flat. Brian watched him go. Brian had gotten used to seeing the blue, ratty sweater. He wasn’t sure of its story, but he imagined there was one. When Justin came back down the steps from the bedroom, he was bearing it, with a long-sleeved shirt underneath, and a pair of jeans. He settled onto the couch, tucked his knees to his chest and pulled the ratty sweater over his knees. Brian poured him another short, and pondered what he should say.

The buzzer rang fifteen minutes later, and Justin’s entire body, which had been relaxed, jerked in response. Brian asked who it was and it was Emmett. He let the man up, but decided not to bring-up the money Justin owed him.

“What happened to you?” Emmett asked when Brian had slid open the loft door.

“Change of plans,” Brian said. Emmett had been more than happy to sandwich Justin on the couch and watch ‘Dark Harbor’, which was playing on TV.

“This is the worst movie I have ever seen!” Brian declared, partway through.

“It’s worth it for the kiss at the end! Ooh, Alan Rickman is dreamy,” Emmett said. Brian quirked a disbelieving eyebrow. “Well, his voice his very hot,” Emmett said. “I’d do him.”

“You’d do anyone,” Brian muttered.

“I’m missing valuable plot because you two are bitching!” Justin said.

“What are you missing? Emmett already told you the ending,” Brian snarked. Justin grinned and nudged him in the side, and Brian settled back down happy that, at least, the crappy movie had distracted the both of them from the events of the evening.  
 

\----------------------------------

End Chapter Seven:


	8. The Old Blue Sweater

* * *

“What the fuck is that?” Brian asked as Justin came down the stairs from the bedroom dressed in cargo pants and running shoes and that ratty sweater Brian had seen him wear on the field trips at Liberty.  
  
“A sweater?” Justin said. He looked up at Brian, oddly vulnerable and Brian wasn’t sure how to proceed. He had no idea about the symbolism of the sweater; Justin hadn’t spoken a word about it. All Brian knew was that it was too big, and too ratty, and it did nothing for the young man who wore it. Then again, Brian thought as he watched Justin fiddle with the holes in the sleeve, nervously wrapping it around his fingers and then unwrapping it, maybe it was like a security blanket.  
  
Justin had been nervous ever since Brian had mentioned going to the Diner and meeting the Gang, Brian’s Gang, which was growing faster than he had ever anticipated. He could practically hear all the thoughts buzzing through Justin’s head, wanting Brian’s friends to like him, worried about the crowds, worried about saying or doing the wrong thing, about being ridiculed because he’d spent two years in a mental institution. Showing up in that sweater wasn’t going to do him any favours, but Brian read Justin’s body language and figured it would at least comfort the nervous blond.  
  
Justin’s mood-swings were getting confusing. At times Justin was cocky and confident, at others he was a barely contained mess. So far as Brian could see, the best way to handle it was to ignore it. Justin usually got himself under control, and seemed more frustrated with his nerves than anything, so Brian played it cool, pretended he didn’t notice and did his best to appear as if he wasn’t watching over the younger man like a hawk. So far it was working.  
  
“Let’s go,” Brian said, Justin smiled a little and walked quickly out of the loft. “Forget something?” Brian called, holding-up the messenger bag that Justin had taken to carrying around. It contained a sketchbook and pencils and god knew what else. Justin grinned, accepted the bag and then jogged down the stairs.  
  
Emmett was walking into the Diner as they pulled up, and Brian was pleased to see that Justin relaxed. From previous experience hitting Woody’s together, Brian knew that for Justin heading into a new environment, having two allies was better than having one. It proved to be true once more, because as they entered the Diner Brian smirked to realize that Justin’s strutting walk was back and he followed Emmett confidently to the booth.  
  
“Everyone!” Emmett said, taking it upon himself to make introductions. “This is Justin!” Justin grinned and waved, and slid into a new booth across from Emmett and beside Brian.   
  
“Blake?” Justin asked, his eyebrows suddenly rising at the sight of who had twisted around to see him.  
  
“Hi! It’s good to see you again. How have you been doing?” Blake asked, one arm slung around Ted, and the other reaching out to Justin.  
  
Justin turned a bit red and scratched behind his ear. “Fine,” he said.  
  
“He’s been making waves across town,” Brian answered, wrapping an arm around Justin. He ignored the slightly devoted smile Justin flashed in his direction, but he doubted that Ben had missed it if the smile the man was giving the newest addition was anything to go by.  
  
Brian had been braced for the comments. Years of care and commitment-free tricking had made him notorious. Ted and Ben both frequently spoke about Brian’s exploits, though for different reasons. Ted always seemed a little bitter and jealous, Ben wanted Brian to convert to the Zen-life and become some celibate monk with a husband. Ben wouldn’t have brought it up at the Diner, though, in front of someone like Justin, but Brian was certain Ben spoke with David about his tricking, and David was exactly the sort of person who would bring it up.  
  
The conversation continued, Ben and Justin getting along quite well, and not a mention was made about Brian’s exploits. He was sure that Blake’s left hand, which was not visible above the table, likely, had a grip of some part of Ted (Brian didn’t want to think about what part) in case he made a comment. And Emmett had stepped in twice to distract Justin from David’s snarking and Brian appreciated that at least there were some people willing to give him a chance.  
  
He’d stopped tricking, after all. Once he’d invited Justin to stay at the loft, there really had been no other option. So Brian resolved to not trick until he knew exactly what Justin wanted, that way the blond had no surprises coming his way. Except that he didn’t exactly know about Brian’s past. At least, when it came-up, Brian would be able to emphasise that it was the past.  
  
As the plates were cleared and conversation died, Ben leaned over to Justin. “We’re heading over to Babylon tonight, if you want to come.”  
  
“No shit,” Justin, who had hung on Brian’s every word when he’d described the place, was eager to see it. “Tonight?”  
  
“We have other plans,” Brian cut-in. “We’ll be there Wednesday, though.”  
  
“Why did you say we had other plans?” Justin asked when they were leaving the Diner. “I want to see what it’s like.”  
  
“I know you do,” Brian said. “And you will. But not tonight.”   
  
“Do we actually have other plans?” Justin asked as he shut the door to the Jeep. Brian turned to look at the young man, his lips quirked, his tongue in his cheek.   
  
.............................  
  
“You know what’s weird?” Justin asked. He was lying on the floor of the loft, like a starfish and when he spoke he crinkled his nose.  
  
“People who screw metal spikes into their skull because they don’t like their hair?” Brian guessed.  
  
“No,” Justin said. “Well, that’s weird, but that’s not the weird thing I was thinking about.” Brian handed the joint back to Justin, and Justin took a hit, holding it in like Brian had shown him. “When you wiggle your eyebrows.”  
  
“Me?”  
  
“No, anyone. Wiggling their eyebrows. It’s weird.” Brian waited until Justin tilted his head up, and then he wiggled his eyebrows. Justin watched it blankly, then comment. “It’s, like, really skanky,” Justin said.  
  
“Does anyone use the word ‘skanky’ anymore?”  
  
“I do.”  
  
“Anyone not weird?”  
  
“Well, if they don’t, they should,” Justin said. “Skanky is a good word. Like mewl or lethargic.”  
  
“Lethargic?”  
  
“It’s a good word. People don’t use it so often. They say ‘lazy’, but lethargic is a good word.”  
  
“So’s stoned,” Brian said.  
  
“Yeah, I like that too.” They snickered for a minute. “I’m glad we had other plans tonight.”  
  
“What plans?”  
  
“The other plans you said we had, that were really to just come back here and get stoned. That was a good plan,” Justin said.  
  
“You’re just saying that because you’re stoned,” Brian said.  
  
“Exactly.” Like any good conversation explored while stoned, theirs rambled over several different subjects each of which they discussed quite seriously, until Brian brought up the blue sweater.  
  
“What blue sweater?” Justin asked, confused.  
  
“The one you have on.”  
  
Justin lifted his head off the floor and picked at the sweater. “Hey!” he said, as if he hadn’t realized what he had on. “Oh this has history,” he said.  
  
“I know,” Brian said. “That’s why I asked.”  
  
“Sweater history, 101,” Justin said, and he snickered. “The first boy I ever had a crush on gave it to me. It’s how I knew I was gay.”  
  
“Because you liked his sweater?”  
  
“We were on a field trip, I have no idea where we went,” Justin said, holding the joint between his fingers and using his thumb to scratch above his eyebrow. “Probably the museum or something. Because, you know, it was a class trip so it had to have been educational. Anyway, he was the older brother of a kid in school. Totally hot, and I’d been stealing glances at him. When we were leaving, it had gotten really cold -- because weather does that in the winter -- and all I had was my long-sleeved shirt and my vest. So he gave me his sweater, because he had a warm coat and shirt underneath.”  
  
“Did it look like that?” Brian asked, eyeing the sweater distastefully.  
  
“It was new at that point,” Justin said. “But I took it when my parents told me we were going on a car-ride, because it looked like it might be cold, and because it made me feel safe. It reminded me, you know? Of who I was.”  
  
“A big queer,” Brian said.  
  
“The biggest,” Justin said. Then he snickered, and Brian joined in, until he slid off the couch he’d been sprawled on. “Weed makes you graceful,” Justin said. Which only prompted them to laugh more.  
  
The next morning, as he dressed for work, trying not to wake Justin, Brian eyed the blue sweater that lay on the ground. It looked as if, at one point, it might have been a dark indigo blue, now it was faded, and worn soft. There were holes in the cuffs, where Justin’s nervous fingers twisted; stretched out from all the times Justin had pulled it over his bent knees. Brian finished fixing his tie, then bent and picked up the shirt, folding it and placing it in one of Justin’s drawers.   
  
..........................  
  
Justin woke-up late, and was momentarily disoriented. It had been well over two years since he had slept in. He decided he liked it. He breathed deep and yawned and stretched out on the bed. He knew Brian would have left for work already, and so he flipped onto his back, and then rolled over onto his stomach until his face was buried in Brian’s pillow and he breathed in deep. Then rolled his eyes at himself. He wiggled his toes and then rolled again, out of bed and hopped up onto his feet. He couldn’t remember how he had gotten to bed last night, but wasn’t worried, maybe Brian had carried him, or maybe they had both staggered into it. It didn’t matter. He felt well rested and relaxed in a way he hadn’t felt in some time.  
  
With a bounce in his step, Justin ate his late breakfast, washed and dressed, and then jogged down the stairs and out into the street. He paused, waiting for the usual ripples of panic, but none came, so he picked a direction and started walking.  
  
He’d spoken to Lindsay on Thursday and come to a decision. After the incident with Brian’s mother, Justin was worried that he hadn’t entirely dealt with his anger. The only way he knew to deal with it, besides bottling it up and trying to ignore it, was to paint until it got out of his system. Clearly, painting wasn’t enough, though. When he had attacked Hobbes there had been a sort of freedom he’d felt, just because he was finally beating the shit out of someone, just like he’d wanted to do. He’d wanted to strike back at his father those years ago, but he couldn’t because he’d still loved his father, because he hadn’t quite realized that his father and the man choking him were the same person. With Hobbes, he’d been held back by many reasons, but when he had lashed-out, he felt free and that had been amazing.  
  
Since going around and beating people up wasn’t an option Justin liked, he chose the only other thing that made sense. ‘Street Smartz’ was a small gym two blocks away from the loft. There were large windows and a big blue and orange sign above it. Inside, the walls were an exotic blue, with mirrors covering one length of the wall and mats on the floor. The woman at the desk by the door had greeted him brightly, and happily signed him up for a course.  
  
They taught a wide-range of things at Street Smartz from karate and tai chi, to kick boxing and regular boxing. Since Justin didn’t know anything besides the fact that he wanted to punch something, he signed-up for a general course that would teach him a little bit of everything. The group was small, and Paula -- who was the woman who had greeted him -- had nothing but good things to say about the instructor. The class met twice a week, on Tuesdays and Thursdays.   
  
From there, Justin took his sketchbook to a park and sketched some of the children playing, and the mothers running after them, or sitting on the benches as talking. One of the children had a puppy, and Justin thought sadly of Tigger. He’d been putting it off, but he would have to return to his parents house to gather some of his things, and let Molly know where he was. He also missed his dog. Maybe he could convince Brian to let him bring Tigger back to stay with them?  
  
He picked up some fresh vegetables on the way home and decided that he’d make a salad, he didn’t feel very hungry, thoughts of his parents usually robbed him of his appetite.  
  
.......................  
  
Moby had been Justin’s reward to himself after he had stayed perfectly calm while he had walked down a busy Liberty Avenue in the evening, and suffering through an ugly man trying to pick him up. It wasn’t so much that the man had been unattractive than that he had repeatedly invaded Justin’s personal space.   
  
In celebration of his imminent introduction to Babylon, Justin cranked the stereo as he got dressed. “What the fuck are you listening to?” Brian asked.  
  
“Moby!” Justin said as he bopped a bit, only partly because he was slipping into a pair of jeans. “It’s really hot!” Brian tried to stifle a smile and rolled his eyes. Justin whipped the pullover he had been wearing off and bopped to the T-shirt he’d draped over the back of the sofa, tilting his head from side to side. “Woo!” he said, in time to the song.  
  
Brian snorted and focussed on buttoning his shirt. His eyes kept skirting sideways to look at the smooth expanse of skin that was Justin’s back, or to observe Justin’s lean body as he danced and attempted to writhe his way into his shirt at the same time. He’d been reduced to jerking-off in the shower to thoughts of the young blond, and that was something he was not used to.  
  
“Ready?” Justin asked.  
  
“Lead the way,” Brian said. Justin turned off the stereo and followed Brian to the door. Brian had to admit he liked the robin’s egg blue shirt Justin was wearing, with the yellow edging. Justin plain enough, and yet tight enough that Justin looked delicious.   
  
Justin was entirely excited about going to Babylon. He loved dancing, he loved music, he had not had the chance to go dancing in ages, and never at a gay dance club. He really hadn’t thought it through. He was all grins and giggles until Brian led him beyond the chain-link curtain and Justin saw the sea of half-naked men. The entire club was packed with them, they were dancing and drinking and ... Justin gaped as he saw three men practically going at it in a corner.  
  
He gripped Brian’s arm so he didn’t lose him in the crowd, and thanked the dim lighting because Brian couldn’t see that Justin’s smile was a tense one. They made it to the bar, and Justin realized that Brian’s height had worked to their advantage because Brian had spotted David and Ben and Emmett.  
  
“Hey, Baby!” Emmett greeted, bouncing over and kissing Justin’s cheek.  
  
“Hi! This is incredible,” he said.  
  
“Isn’t it?” Emmett said. “Welcome to Babylon!” He threw his arms wide.  
  
“One day, Simba, this will all be yours,” Brian said. Justin elbowed him in the side. Brian rolled his eyes and handed over a double shot of Beam. Justin knocked it back and ordered another.  
  
“Whoa, slow down,” Ben said, chuckling. “We’ve got all night.” Justin didn’t say that that was what he was afraid of.  
  
“Want to dance?” Brian asked. Justin grinned and nodded. Justin kept his body close to Brian’s as they danced, knowing that Brian would keep him safe. The music was loud and thrumming, and Justin thought the music was so loud it was changing the rhythm of his heart to match the downbeat. He closed his eyes and tried to forget everything else around.  
  
They danced a few songs and then headed back to the bar, each picking up another shot, and then Brian insisting they drink some water. “You really don’t want a hangover tomorrow.” Justin had never drunk so much in his life, and trusted that Brian knew more about avoiding the downside of alcohol, so he drank the water.  
  
“Hey,” Ben said, “Let’s dance.” He tilted his head towards the dance floor and Brian turned to look at Justin.  
  
“Are you okay?” he asked.  
  
“Yeah, go ahead,” Justin said. “I’m fine.” Brian nodded and he and Ben were soon lost in the crowd. Justin took a breath and was surprised when someone slid close against him. “David?” he asked.  
  
David grinned and stepped back. “Sorry, I was pushed.”  
  
“That’s fine,” Justin said, fiddling with the beer he’d ordered.   
  
“This isn’t really my scene,” David said. “It’s like a flesh market. People here lose sight of the other part of hooking up. Meeting someone who thinks the same, or feels the same. Finding someone who isn’t just interested in the sex.”  
  
“Hm,” Justin said, sipping his beer.   
  
“You don’t strike me as the sort of person who hooks-up for something casual. How the hell did you meet Brian?”  
  
Justin frowned. He didn’t want to talk about how he had met Brian, didn’t want to discuss his history, not with David, not with anyone. “Emmett!” he greeted as the taller man danced over to them. He latched on the opportunity to change the topic.  
  
“Hey Baby! Having a good time?”  
  
“Yeah! Brian’s dancing with Ben.”  
  
“He left you all by your lonesome?” Emmett asked.  
  
“I’ve been keeping an eye on him,” David said.  
  
“But you should be dancing, Baby,” Emmett said. “Let’s go!” Justin decided he liked dancing with Emmett, he threw his arms up and waved them around so he looked a bit like an ostrich performing a rain dance, but it was completely free and he was so clearly enjoying himself that Justin decided he liked Emmett’s ‘praise Jesus’ move.   
  
.......................  
  
“Where’s Justin?” Brian asked as he returned to the bar.  
  
“Over there,” David said, pointing to Emmett and Justin. Justin had drawn a lot of attention, and he’d been watching with some amusement as Emmett and Justin continually turned away men who wanted a piece of one or the other of them.  
  
“He seems to be having a really good time,” Ben said.   
  
“So do you,” David said, grinning and Ben.   
  
“It’s nice to get out and dance once in a while, gets me out of my head,” he said. Ben was a writer, and had been working on his next book a little obsessively. He was happy to have a distraction, a reason to take a break from writing.  
  
“I love this place!” Justin said as he and Emmett returned to the bar. Justin wound his arms around Brian’s neck and dropped his head back.   
  
“What is he on?” Brian asked, glaring at Emmett.  
  
“I gave him a tab of E. He’s okay, Brian, I’ve been watching him,” Emmett said.  
  
“Has he done E before?” Brian asked.  
  
“I don’t think so,” Emmett said with a shrug. “He needed to relax a little, let loose.”  
  
“I feel amazing,” Justin said.   
  
“I bet you do,” Brian muttered. “At least drink this,” he handed Justin a bottle of water.  
  
“Kay!” Justin said  
  
“I’m taking the princess home,” Brian said. “Say bye-bye, Princess.”  
  
“Bye!” Justin said, waving his hand.  
  
“I love this loft,” Justin declared as Brian pulled open the door, watching warily as Justin entered. “It’s so glamorous!” He spun a circle, and then proceeded to slip out of his shoes without undoing them, and remove his coat.   
  
“I’m missing an arm,” he said, as he tried to pull his coat off. His left arm was stuck in the sleeve. “Seriously, Brian,” Justin said, he was walking in a circle, picking at the coat sleeve that had eaten his arm, both arms behind his back and with one shoe off and the other on.  
  
“Christ, you’re a mess,” Brian said. “Hold still.” He slipped the coat off Justin’s shoulder and draped it over the back of the couch. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”  
  
“Your bed is totally hot!” Justin said, turning and heading up the stairs, Brian trailing behind him, watching in amusement as Justin, uninhibited as a result of the alcohol and the E, shed his T-shirt. His socks followed his T-shirt, arching in the air and lying in forgotten puddles on the floor, and then Justin climbed onto the bed, hopping twice before turning and grinning. Brian stood at the foot of the bed, watching Justin’s actions with amusement. “What?” Justin asked, stepping back to the edge of the bed. “What did I do?”   
  
Brian, however, was distracted, his attention caught on Justin’s lips, on how Justin was biting one corner. He raised a hand and gently pressed on Justin’s bottom lip, forcing white teeth to relinquish their grip; then he pressed his lips to Justin’s.  
  
It took only a moment, and then Brian came to his senses and pulled back, not wanting to push the blond into anything. But Justin, eyes closed, followed Brian’s lips blindly and pressed them together again, his lips opening in surrender and Brian slipped his tongue inside.  
  
Justin’s arms were wrapped around Brian’s head, their tongues slow and languid in their movement. Brian stepped up onto the mattress gripping Justin’s hips, and then circling his arms around the younger man’s waist, pulling him close. He tipped them over, until they were sprawled on the bed, and Justin’s hands ran from his head down his neck and his chest. “Off,” Justin said, his fingers frantically bunching Brian’s shirt, and tugging. Brian knelt and pulled the shirt off, then leaned forward again, welcomed by Justin’s mouth and his tongue.   
  
Justin’s breath was thick and his thoughts entirely focussed. He wanted Brian, he didn’t care how, he just wanted him. As the taller man’s fingers worked at his belt Justin bent his legs, his arms crossed over his face, unable to grasp that this was happening, his hips thrusting upwards of their own volition. Then Brian was kissing a trail of wet kisses down Justin’s chest, following the trail of gold hair beneath his navel, and then closing his lips around Justin’s arousal and sucking.  
  
Justin’s hips lifted from the bed, his head tipping back and gasping. Smiling a little at the intense reaction, Brian grasped the slender hips; easing Justin back down before took more of Justin into his mouth. Justin’s arms flopped uselessly to either side of him, his mouth open but unable to voice anything beyond pleased grunts and gasps, and his eyes closed tight. He’d never felt anything like it before, he didn’t want it to ever end -- he needed it to end right that minute, needed to come. There was a vague knot of tension in his belly, warning him that this was too much, too soon, that he should be worried. But that vague knot was overwhelmed by the pleasure of Brian’s mouth on him, of that tongue working him, of Brian’s hands, and Brian’s body, and the E and the alcohol.   
  
Brian was watching Justin as he sucked on him, savouring each sound his touch elicited, enjoying how the blond held nothing back. He was loose and free on Brian’s bed, his fingers tangling the sheets as he gripped them, Brian could feel the bone of Justin’s right ankle between his shoulder blades as Justin’s leg pressed gently to the back of his head, trying to press him closer, trying to get more. Pale skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, Brian had never seen anything as beautiful as Justin in that moment.  
  
“Please,” Justin said, his voice raspy, rough around the edges like it had been that first time Justin had spoken. Brian squeezed Justin’s balls and took Justin in deeply, and Justin moaned, a low debauched sound, and then Brian was swallowing as Justin came in his mouth. When Justin’s cock had stopped pulsing Justin was totally limp, his legs dropping to the bed, his fingers relaxing, and his eyes closing. Brian sat back and eyed his work with no small amount of satisfaction.  
  
“I love you,” Justin said quietly, still gasping. Brian looked closely at Justin’s relaxed face. He’d never opened his eyes, has only whispered it quietly, as if he hadn’t expected anyone to hear but had to say it anyway. Brian didn’t think it was just the drugs talking.  


 ------------------------

End Chapter Eight:


	9. All the Lost Things

* * *

“Just checking,” Justin said lightly as he finished brushing his teeth. He rinsed his toothbrush then dropped it in the holder Brian had by the sink, stopping to smile at how his toothbrush looked sitting in the holder beside Brian’s.  
  
“Why do you say that?” Brian asked as he walked into the bathroom, tying his tie.  
  
Justin shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m trying to figure-out how things run here.”  
  
“This is your home, they run however we want them to run,” Brian said.  
  
“Okay,” Justin said agreeably, and smiled. Brian watched Justin as the blond headed out of the bathroom. He’d heard the phrase too frequently from Justin to dismiss it so casually. It always followed a casual inquiry into the loft set-up, or Brian’s behaviour. ‘You forgot your clothes’, and Brian would say that he hadn’t forgotten them, and Justin would shrug and say ‘Just checking’. He’d done it several times, and Brian, following a comment from Dr. Erik, was beginning to realize that it was because Justin was uncomfortable.  
  
“Are you okay?” Brian asked, following Justin back into the bedroom again.  
  
“Yeah,” Justin asked, scrunching his face in that way he did when he wasn’t sure what the hell Brian was talking about.  
  
“I’ll pick something up for dinner, Tai good for you?” Brian asked, knowing Justin had learned this was his way of saying he was working late.  
  
“Sure,” Justin said. “Later.”  
  
“Later,” Brian said.  
  
He thought about it on the ride to Kinnetic. The only conclusion that he could arrive at was that he was an idiot. Things had been awkward since they’d woken-up on Thursday morning, Justin slightly hung-over and both of them naked. Justin’s memory of what happened the night before was clear, however, and Brian had blinked bleary eyes open lifting his head to look at Justin, who he was partially lying on, and was immediately confronted with a frozen expression on Justin’s face. He hadn’t been able to interpret it. It was partly shock and embarrassment, but there had been fear and there had been panic as well. Brian had sat up and Justin had quickly wriggled free, apologizing for seemingly nothing at all, and stumbled to the bathroom.  
  
Brian had known it was too fast. He couldn’t help it. He had stopped tricking, he was living with a very attractive young man who was becoming increasingly relaxed and less concerned with keeping his body constantly covered. Justin high and giddy and horny and relaxed had been too much to resist. Three days later and their conversation was down to a bare minimum, and it was always awkward.   
  
And then there were Justin’s questions, and casual dismissals. Dr. Erik said that Justin was likely not seeing the loft as his own. Wasn’t quite used to the idea of living with someone and sharing a space. He was looking at it like he had to fit in to Brian’s lifestyle, hence the ‘just checking’. He was checking, in a way; checking to see what the unspoken rule was so that he wouldn’t make a big thing about it, so he could learn to accept it. Brian had dismissed this when Dr. Erik had said it, but now he wasn’t so certain. He walked around the loft naked, it was habit and sometimes it was also laziness. Mornings were when he usually did it, too set on the idea of his first hit of caffeine to stop and throw on clothes. Justin had seemed fine with it even after their first morning when Justin had moved in. But then again, he’d been making breakfast and had drawn Brian’s attention to his lack of clothes. He hadn’t brought it up again, but Brian had realized that neither had Justin really looked at him when he was naked.  
  
Just like when they climbed into bed. Brian was always naked, was comfortable only when he slept naked. Justin, however, always seemed hesitant about climbing into bed with him. He also always wore clothes. The answer was obvious but it had taken Brian a ridiculous amount of time to come to it. He was parading around naked like a peacock, around a victim of sexual-abuse who was also a virgin. Consciously or not, he was making what was supposed to be their home, as in Justin’s home as well, completely uncomfortable for Justin.  
  
“Fuck,” Brian muttered. He wasn’t prepared to change how he lived. He was comfortable this way; this is what he needed to do for him. But then there was Justin, cooking like a housewife, avoiding confrontations, following unspoken rules even when it made him uncomfortable, and now Justin was also trying to deal with the new implied pressure for sex. Brian knew just what Justin was thinking. That now their casual embraces, their kisses, their make out sessions on the couch would turn into sex, because Brian wanted it.   
  
It was true. Brian really wanted to have sex with Justin. He didn’t, however, want to have sex with Justin until the blond was ready for it. It was all ridiculously complicated. “This is why I don’t do ... this shit,” he muttered to himself. But there was no use stepping around it, if agonizing sessions with Lindsay and Dr. Erik had taught him anything, it was that ignoring something only made it worse. “Fucking relationships.”  
  
..........................  
  
Justin had resolved to not think about it. It wasn’t working very well, but he was determined to try. He tried to not think about it as he watched Brian work at the computer at night, his fingers dancing on the keyboard, his intense expression not totally unlike when he ... He tried to not think about it as he made breakfast, as he climbed into bed at night, as he went into the bathroom every morning to wash and brush his teeth. But Brian’s naked body was everywhere and it always reminded him, and even when Brian was clothed, Justin would still remember.  
  
The truth was that Justin wanted it. He wanted Brian to touch him, he wanted Brian to be with him the way they had been that night. He didn’t want to be drunk or high to get it. That was the truth. The problem, though, was that if he wasn’t drunk or high, then Justin was too fucking terrified. It was hard enough, sometimes, to let Brian hold him, to kiss Brian. Sometimes he’d drown in a flashback, other times he was devoured by panic. “Fucking Hobbes,” Justin snarled.   
  
After all this time, after hours of therapy devoted to talking over and over again about it, Justin was still afraid. And now that he had something he wanted, had experienced something he’d been wanting. Now he was jumpy all the time. How could he explain to Brian that it was too soon? That what they had done had been amazing, and good, but that was all Justin could give. That he needed to adjust to it, and figure things out before he even considered doing anything more, or doing what they had done again without drugs or alcohol this time.  
  
“Jesus Christ, Taylor,” he said to himself. “It’s just sex!” He exhaled in a frustrated ‘whoosh’, and dropped his paintbrush back into the canister. He was too full of nervous energy to settle into a painting. “Might as well do something productive with all my time,” he said, grabbing his keys from the counter where he’d left them, and his bag. He’d bought himself a cell phone, mostly because Brian kept making subtle hints about wondering where the fuck he was whenever he wasn’t in the loft.   
  
He set the alarm, locked the door, and jogged down the stairs. It was time to go home, pack his shit, and really move in with Brian.  
  
.............................  
  
“Justin, Honey,” Jennifer greeted, more than a little shocked to see her son standing on her doorstep when she opened the door.  
  
“Hi,” Justin said.  
  
Jennifer gasped, her eyes watering, and made a little gurgling sound before she lunged forward and hugged her son tight. “Oh Sweetie!” she said. “Oh!”  
  
“I can’t stay long,” Justin lied. “I just came to pick-up my things.”  
  
“But ... but where are you staying?” Jennifer asked.  
  
“Justin!” Molly called, racing down the stairs and flinging herself into his arms. “Holy shit! I was totally heading out to visit you! You prick! Why didn’t you tell me you left?”  
  
“Molly!” Jennifer said, scandalized by her daughter’s language.  
“I’m telling you now,” Justin said. “I came to pick-up my things. Where’s Tigger?”  
  
“Oh,” Jennifer said, one hand going to her throat and she shook her head.  
  
“Molly?” he asked, since she seemed more reliable.  
  
“Justin, Tigger got hit by a car. Not that long after you left, he kept breaking out of the house all the time after you’d gone. I think he kept trying to find where you went, but he broke out, and Mr. Jennings down the street was backing out of his driveway,” Molly explained.  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Justin asked. “And I asked when you came!” he said, turning to look at his mother. “I asked you, and you said he was fine!”  
  
“Justin,” Jennifer said.  
  
“I didn’t want to upset you. It was so stupid,” Molly said. “I kept knowing I should, but I couldn’t,” she said.  
  
Justin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I just need to grab a few things,” he said flatly.  
  
“You can stay for dinner, Sweetie,” Jennifer said.  
  
“I just need to grab my things,” he repeated.  
  
“Okay,” Jennifer said. She went to the front hall table and opened a drawer, handing him a key.  
  
“What’s this?”  
  
“Your father,” she said. “Well...” She shook her head and blinked. “Your father packed your things. They’re in the garage.”  
  
“What happened to my room?” Justin asked. Molly wouldn’t meet his eyes. Neither would his mother. Pushing passed them, he climbed the stairs and found the door to his bedroom, it was closed and when he pushed it open he felt something break in him. The walls weren’t even the same colour. He’d painted a mural on one wall when he was thirteen. He made a collage above his bed. Both of those were gone. Now it was just plain beige walls and four pieces of exercise equipment. Even his curtains had been replaced by Venetian blinds.  
  
He’d borrowed Blake’s car, and was now happy he had changed his decision to just use a cab. He’d planned to take only a few things, to leave the rest with his parents and pick it up later if he needed it. But now he opened the garage to see his life packed-up in boxes, and suddenly he didn’t trust his parents with it anymore. He hauled everything into the car, sending Molly away when she tried to help. He packed everything in, and then he stalked down the driveway.  
  
“Where are you staying?” Jennifer asked.  
  
“Like you care!” Justin said.   
  
“Justin,” Molly said, her voice sounding small.  
  
“Anywhere but here!” he said. He left the garage open. Let his father come home and see the empty space in the garage. Maybe for one minute he might remember that he had a son. Maybe for one minute, he might regret all the things he’d ever done. Maybe, but Justin didn’t think so.  
  
........................  
  
Brian got home and the loft was dark. It was also quiet. Three cautious steps in and he nearly tripped over a box. He made it to the kitchen, flicked on a light and looked closely at the stack of boxes by the front door. They smelled of dust and aging cardboard, and he worried for a moment that he might never be able to rid the loft of the smell. Then he returned to the real problem, which was how the boxes got there, what was in them, and why Justin was not anywhere in sight.  
  
Justin’s keys were on the counter, where he always left them no matter how often Brian tried to make him leave them in the bedroom. Justin’s shoes were by the front door. Beyond that, Justin seemed completely missing. Except that the blue lights were on in the bedroom, and the comfort those lights provided Justin was one of the first things he’d learned when Justin had moved in.  
  
Brian would never admit that he was concerned and a little cautious as he crossed the floor. He stood at the side of the bed and peered down at Justin, sprawled on his stomach, his head on a pillow, his arms wrapped around it. Even in the blue-light, Brian could make out the tear tracks on Justin’s red face. Justin had cried himself to sleep that much was clear. Brian had no idea why, though.  
  
He slipped his shoes off and then sat on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on Justin’s back. He wondered if Justin would talk to him, or if maybe he should phone Emmett or Blake. Lately they hadn’t been saying much of anything to each other.   
  
Lindsay had told him specifically that Justin needed a steady and relaxing environment so he could focus on more important things. Like getting used to the speed at which the world outside of Liberty moved, and the sheer number of people. Brian had fucked up, though, because he’d unintentionally made Justin’s home environment more taxing. There were dark circles under Justin’s eyes, a result of the nightmares that woke him and often made it impossible for him to return to sleep. And ever since Wednesday, Justin had seemed more cautious when Brian was near him then anything else.   
  
Now Justin was also dealing with whatever had happened that had upset him enough to cry himself to sleep. From the sheer number of boxes in the entranceway, Brian thought he could guess where Justin had gone.  
  
“My dog is dead,” Justin said. Brian was as startled by the silence being split by that flat tone as he was that Justin had woken and he hadn’t noticed. “He’s been dead for a while.” Brian kept his hand on Justin’s back and wondered if there was anything else. He knew Justin had loved his dog. Once Justin had started talking, he’d had endless stories about ‘Tigger’, so named because the dog would sometime hop around, and also because the honour of naming the dog had fallen to a much younger Molly.   
  
“They made my room into an exercise room. My mural is gone,” Justin said. “I don’t exist anymore. Not to them. Any sign of me is in those boxes. I’m not real. They never planned for me to come home.” Justin was crying again, Brian wondered if he noticed the tears. He shifted his hand from Justin’s back and tucked some blond strands of hair behind Justin’s ear. Justin’s face was hot to the touch he’d been crying so hard. “My dog is dead, and I’m not real,” Justin said, and he was openly sobbing, and came into Brian’s arms like a lost child, and Brian just held on.   
  
He held on while Justin sobbed, until Justin didn’t have the energy to cry anymore. Didn’t have the energy to do anything but lie there and breathe, though Brian wondered if maybe Justin was wishing he didn’t even have the energy for that anymore either. He tucked Justin’s head under his chin, then smoothed back the blond hair and kissed his forehead. “You’re home,” he said. “You’re home, you’re home.” Justin sighed and flopped a hand to Brian’s knee and just lay there and listened. “You’re home.” And Brian thought, he’d say it until Justin believed it, because it was already true.  


 -----------------------

End Chapter Nine:


	10. In One Ear and Out the Other

* * *

The Monday of his third week outside of Liberty, Justin woke late and staggered out of bed. He went to the bathroom, too tired to close the door, washed his hands and went in search of coffee. He couldn’t even fully open his eyes.  
  
He’d been in a haze since Saturday when he had gone to his parent’s house and picked-up his things. He’d been unable to focus on painting or sketching, and had been tired. Brian had dragged him out to Woody’s on Sunday, and it had been nice to get out and see everyone but he’d just felt so exhausted and finally Brian had agreed that they’d head home.  
  
As he passed the bed, he noted that there was a vaguely Brian-shaped lump, but he passed by and navigated, mostly from memory, to the kitchen. There was a fur rug by the island in the kitchen and Justin wondered when Brian had bought that and why he’d not noticed it before but coffee was more important than examining the rug. He collapsed onto a chair, his head resting on his arms while the coffee brewed, then he poured himself a mug and sipped it right there, standing by the coffee machine.   
  
Finally he was able to blink he eyes open a little. After another savoured sip where he thought he could actually feel every cell in his body becoming awake, he turned and headed over to examine the rug.  
  
Justin stood there for a moment, staring at the white, furry rug. He blinked. The rug blinked back. “Brian!” Justin called.  
  
“What?” Brian asked, staggering down the stairs, scratching his head with one hand while the other attempted to tie the drawstring of his pants. He’d been wearing those pants around the loft quite frequently, they were black and they were silk, and Brian looked devastatingly attractive in them.  
  
“There’s a dog in the kitchen!” Justin said, turning back to the dog just to see if maybe he had hallucinated.  
  
“Well,” Brian said, crossing around the island and filling a mug without even looking at Justin or the dog. “I’d never own a dog so he must be yours.”  
  
“What?” Justin asked, he turned to look at Brian who was now leaning against the counter, a mug of coffee in his hand, smiling a little, looking much more awake than he had a second ago. “He’s...” Justin said, trying to piece it all together. Brian raised his eyebrows and his head tilted forward a bit, as if he were willing the connection to be made in Justin’s brain. “My dog?”  
  
Brian smiled. “I always knew you were smart!” Justin turned back to the dog. It was a puppy, really, but was fairly large for a puppy. He was white, with dark eyes and a dark nose, and a big pink tongue. He looked like he was grinning at Justin, and Justin grinned back, dropping to the ground and scratching the white ball of fur vigorously.  
  
“What kind of dog is he?”  
  
“A Great Pyrenees,” Brian said. “They’re friendly, intelligent, obedient, and they don’t go stir-crazy if they aren’t walked every three minutes. This one is even house-trained.”  
  
“I can’t imagine you buying something that might damage your loft,” Justin said, laughing.  
  
“Take a look at all that fur, Sunshine,” Brian said seriously. “That could damage my loft, that could also damage very expensive clothes. I expect you to keep him brushed and shedding as little as possible. What’s his name?”  
  
Justin looked back at the dog and couldn’t think of anything. “Something will come to me,” he said.   
  
“In the mean time, I’m heading out for work,” Brian said. He’d shifted his schedule around only a little so that he could be home to see Justin’s reaction. Cynthia had been kind enough to pick-up the beast from the woman who bred and trained them, and then drop it off at the loft. Brian was feeling much better as he got dressed and ready for work. Justin had been in a funk since Saturday and Brian thought this might be the thing to cheer him up. That, and his new compromise about house etiquette, which Justin seemed appreciative of at the very least, the young blond seemed more relaxed now that Brian was naked less frequently.   
  
“Brian!” Justin said as Brian picked-up his briefcase and headed to the door. “Thank-you,” he said, his voice soft, as if the words weren’t enough to express the level of gratitude.   
  
Brian smirked and couldn’t resist a slow kiss, which Justin returned with equal enthusiasm. “Later, Sunshine,” Brian said. He was answered by a dog bark, and Justin’s broad grin.  
  
........................  
  
Justin made breakfast while the dog sat obediently and watched him, his floppy ears perked and looking attentive as if he were really taking in everything Justin was talking about. Justin was talking about everything.  
  
He ate and fed the dog some scraps from the table on the condition that he not tell Brian, and then Justin got dressed and washed, located the collar and the leash for the dog, and realized that beyond that they had nothing. “We’re going to have to go shopping,” Justin said.   
  
The dog kept wiggling out of its collar every time Justin slipped it on him, and Justin kept calling him a Silly Goose. Finally they compromised, and Justin promised he’d buy the dog a much nicer collar if the dog wore this one just until they found a much nicer one. They ran down the stairs together and Justin, who knew the neighbourhood quite well after his frequent walks, headed to a small pet store down the street.   
  
Justin got a bit carried away. He bought lots of toys and several bones. They picked-out a nice black collar that seemed to meet the dog’s standards, and Justin filled out the forms for a license. He phoned Brian to check if the dog had been given all its shots, and Brian had said yes, and if Justin phoned again about the damned dog he’d return them both, Justin thought Brian was a bit melodramatic. He’d only called three times about the dog, and if Brian didn’t care about what he bought then that was fine.   
  
He bought a matching water and food dish, both of which were blue, and a mat to place them on, so Brian didn’t have to worry about spills. He’d decided he was going to paint a goose on the front of the bowls, but that would have to wait until he bought the right paints for it.  
  
Justin didn’t know what kind of food Goose would like, and Goose wasn’t helpful, so Justin bought a few small bags to try, and then he phoned for a cab and loaded his purchases in and they headed back to the loft.  
  
Goose relieved himself at the front of the building, and then they hauled their purchases into the elevator and headed back into the loft. Once Justin had set-up the mat and the dishes and filled both dishes-up, Goose came over and inspected them quite closely, then he turned his back on them and proceeded to nudge Justin in the direction of the kitchen. “I’m not feeding you table scraps,” Justin said. Goose pawed at the fridge, and then sat and oversaw the creation of Justin’s lunch, and only when Justin was sitting and eating did Goose turn back to his own bowls. “My dog’s a freak,” Justin said.  
  
.........................  
  
When Brian returned home, the first thing he noticed were Justin’s shoes. As usual, Justin had left them by the door, exactly where he had toed them off. This time, however, there was a chewed bone sticking out of the left shoe. He smirked a little, and then his attention was caught by the brand new leash hanging on a peg by the door.   
  
“Hey!” Justin called, his blond head popping up from the sofa where he was sprawled. Brian shook his head, noted the mat with the dog bowls, and headed to the couch. He bent over the back and kissed Justin, a short peck and then a longer kiss, which was rudely interrupted when Brian felt a wet tongue that wasn’t Justin’s.  
  
“What the fuck?”  
  
“Mother Goose, down!” Justin said. The fluffy puppy hopped off the sofa and sat by Justin, looking repentant. “Good boy! My good by!” Justin said, scratching the dog’s ears.  
  
“You named the dog Mother Goose?” Brian asked.  
  
“Yeah,” Justin said. “Go ahead, try and skip a meal around him. He’s worse than Debbie was.” Brian pinched the bridge of his nose and wondered what he had been thinking when he’d bought the damned thing. Then he remembered that Justin had been in a funk. Well, that was one problem solved. Now he had a considerably more permanent one.  
  
“Do you plan on unpacking those boxes?” Brian asked, Justin turned from where he had been scratching Mother Goose and looked at the boxes.  
  
“Some of it is kid’s stuff. Like, when I was little. I don’t think you have space for all of it,” Justin said.  
  
“Well, unpack what you want and then we’ll put the rest in storage,” Brian said.  
  
“Sorry to be so much trouble,” Justin said, his face turning sombre again.  
  
“Sorry’s bullshit,” Brian said, and Justin frowned as he watched the other man head into the bathroom.  
  
Since he wasn’t sure what to make of Brian’s mood, Justin sat with Goose on the floor by the coffee table and sketched while the dog chewed on a squeaky-toy that looked like a big red porcupine. By the time Brian came out, dried and changed after his shower, Justin was engrossed in his sketching. Mother Goose looked up, the red toy still in his mouth, and eyed Brian cautiously. Brian looked back. When Brian made no move to join Justin, and instead headed towards the computer, Mother Goose ignored Brian and began to chew on the toy again.  
  
The sound of Justin sketching had become relaxing to Brian, but he was fairly sure there would be nothing relaxing about the quiet squeaking. Instead, he found that both noises faded into the background and he was able to focus on his work.  
  
........................  
  
When the alarm went off the next morning, Brian silenced it quickly. Justin had woken from a nightmare at about three in the morning, and though he had brushed off Brian’s offer to stay up with him, Brian hadn’t been able to sleep until Justin had crawled back into bed around four thirty, and fallen asleep.  
  
He yawned, stretched, and rolled over, expecting to see Justin his face relaxed in sleep and looking beautiful. Instead, his nose bumped into Goose’s and they stared at each other. “Get off the bed!” Brian ordered. “Mother Goose,” he said, though the name pained him. “Get off.”  
  
“Goose?” Justin said, still sounding groggy. Goose perked up and looked happily over at Justin, then shifted and began to lick Justin’s face.  
  
“He likes you better,” Brian said with a glare.  
  
“Of course he likes me better,” Justin said, smirking a little. “I spent all yesterday walking him around town, feeding him and buying him things. Have you even scratched his ears once?”  
  
“I bought him!” Brian said. “Get him off the bed.” Justin nudged at Goose and told him ‘Down’ and Goose hopped off agreeably, and sat by Justin’s side of the bed and wagged his tail, his pink tongue poking from his mouth. “I have fucking doggy hairs all over the sheets.”  
  
“You change the sheets every morning, anyway,” Justin said. Until that moment, Brian hadn’t realized that changing his sheets had become a force of habit. He ignored Justin’s comment and went into the bathroom to wash. “I’m going to go through the boxes today.”  
  
“Do whatever you want,” Brian said, this was beginning to be a bit too domestic.  
  
“Okay,” Justin said. “And I’ll even remind you that you said that when you pitch a fit over something I do.”  
  
“Why, what are you planning?” Brian asked, stepping out of the bathroom, the shaving cream still on his cheeks, shaver gripped in his hand.  
  
“I don’t know, these things just come to me,” Justin said innocently. Brian rolled his eyes and headed back into the bathroom. Brian finished shaving and headed out to pick his suit, stopping in his tracks when he saw Justin drifting off to sleep, his arm thrown over Goose’s back, Goose, who was once gain on the bed.  
  
Brian ignored both Justin and the dog and got dressed. He’d made the decision to get Goose for all sorts of reasons, after all, not all of them had to do with Justin, but his main purpose was to give something Justin that would make the loft feel like a home for him. If Justin couldn’t voice his concerns or express his discomfort at the moment, maybe he could watch the dog causing all sorts of trouble and see that Brian wasn’t kicking the dog out, and that might give him some more confidence.  
  
“Later,” Brian said as he finished lacing his shoes.  
  
“Mm,” Justin said, more asleep than awake.  
  
“Ruff!” Goose called as Brian exited the loft.   
  
........................  
  
Justin was sitting on the floor, surrounded by open boxes and clothes and toys and various debris from his youth. Mother Goose had appropriate a stuffed dragon that Justin had when he was nine, and was gnawing lovingly on its head, while Justin sorted what he wanted to keep and what he didn’t; what he needed here at the loft, and what could go into storage.  
  
At the sound of the key in the lock, both Goose and Justin perked up, their heads turning to the door expecting Brian to come through. He didn’t. Instead, Ben pulled back the door and stepped inside as if he’d been doing it forever.  
  
“How did you get in here?” Justin asked, jumping to his feet. He was thrown-off by Ben’s presence, thrown-off that the man had come into his home so casually. Goose didn’t appreciate the other man’s presence either; he took one look at Justin’s reaction to the intruder, and growled.  
  
“Justin?” Ben asked. “I have a key,” he held up the key. “What are you doing here?”  
  
“This is my home,” Justin said. Mother Goose barked, clearly adding ‘mine too!’  
  
“I don’t understand,” Ben said, his eyes scanning over the boxes that were in the middle of the loft.  
  
“I live here,” Justin said. “Does Brian know you have a key? How did you get it?”  
  
“Brian gave the key to me, for emergencies.”  
  
“Is something wrong? Did something happen to Brian?” Justin asked, feeling suddenly very cold.  
  
“No, why?”  
  
“You said the key was for emergencies!” Justin said.  
  
“Oh, well, I guess it was originally for that, and now it’s just for whenever I need to reach Brian.”  
  
“He’s at work,” Justin said hesitantly. He was feeling jumpy. They hadn’t had anyone at the loft with the exception of Joan. Justin had been feeling a bit territorial, as if his space there could easily be pulled from him if he didn’t protect it. “Is there something you wanted?”  
  
“No,” Ben said. “I’m sorry. I brought some groceries over for Brian, that’s all.”   
  
“Leave them on the counter, I’ll find room for them,” Justin said, the cupboards and the bridge were pretty well stocked.  
  
“I’m sorry, Justin. I didn’t know you’d moved in with Brian.”  
  
“Yeah,” Justin said. Ben nodded and headed out again, and Justin sat heavily onto the ground, the adrenaline leaving his system. He wasn’t sure why he had reacted the way he had to Ben’s presence, it made no sense.  
  
............................  
  
Ben hurried out of the loft, part embarrassed that he’d waltzed into Brian’s loft, and part stunned and a little jealous that it was now also, apparently, Justin’s home. He hadn’t thought that when he’d met Justin. Blake had told Ted and Ben that Justin and Brian knew each other from Liberty, but beyond that, the other man had kept pretty quiet. Ben had thought of Justin as a friend of Brian’s, as a new addition to the group. He’d not imagined for a moment that Justin might actually be living with Brian.  
  
That opened up an entirely different set of problems. Every day he spent with David he was feeling more disappointed, more distanced from his friends. David didn’t like Babylon, and Woody’s was a slum in the man’s opinion. He was snooty and steady and sometimes even predictable. He didn’t understand how every once in a while, Ben enjoyed going down to Liberty and hanging out. He didn’t like Ben’s friends.  
  
Now Brian had returned from the hospital, and he was that perfect blend that Ben was looking for. He enjoyed the clubbing, but when he went home it was to the loft, where someone was waiting for him. The man wasn’t tricking, not anywhere that Ben would see, and the gossip about the Stud of Liberty’s absence on the tricking front was inescapable.  
  
The point, however, was that Brian was with Justin, and Ben was with David. Whatever problems he was having with David, they weren’t Brian’s problems. And where once Ben might have pursued Brian, with Justin in the picture, he couldn’t do that. He wasn’t going to go chasing after someone and wrecking things up between an obviously budding relationship. If he was supposed to end-up with Brian, well, then he could trust that it would happen.   
  
But Christ! Brian had even let a dog into his loft! That was completely unfathomable.   
  
..........................  
  
“What are you doing here?” Brian asked when he looked up to see Ben standing in the door to his office. “Come in or get out,” he said. Ben stepped inside and shut the door.  
  
“I called Cynthia, she said you weren’t working on anything, so I figured it was a good time to stop by and give you this,” Ben said, setting the key down on the table.  
  
“What the fuck is that?” Brian asked.  
  
“The key to your loft.” Brian raised his eyebrows and Ben answered the question he knew Brian wasn’t openly voicing. “If Justin’s living there then who has a key to your place should be something you discuss with each other.”  
  
“Who told you?” Brian asked.  
  
“No one. I went over to bring you some groceries,” Ben said.  
  
“Let me guess. You walked right in.”  
  
“Why wouldn’t I? If I knock and you’re there, you’re usually busy, or you ignore me, or yell at me to use the key anyway. And you didn’t tell anyone that you have a roommate.”  
  
“He’s not my fucking roommate,” Brian said.  
  
“Well, whatever he is, you didn’t tell him that your friends have keys, did you? You need to tell him, and see how he feels about that. He’s jumpy enough as it is.”  
  
“What happened?” Brian asked.  
  
“It seemed like he couldn’t decide whether to run and hide under the bed or shoo me out with a broom.” Brian snorted and Ben stood, heading to the door before he paused. “Bye the way, nice dog.” Brian groaned and dropped his head in his hands. At least it was only Ben. If it had been Ted, he would have been fucked because the man had no qualms sharing any bit of news with all of Liberty.  
  
....................  
  
Brian returned home early on Tuesday and wondered for a moment why he was greeted by an over exuberant Goose and no Justin. Then he recalled that Justin had his class on Tuesday and Thursday.  
  
“It’s just you and me,” Brian said. Goose observed him speculatively. Brian made a peanut butter and cucumber sandwich and brought it to the sofa by the TV. He ate and sipped a beer while he watched crappy television. There had been times when he’d wind-down exactly like this before he was sent to Liberty. When the idea of heading out to Babylon and tricking took too much energy to even consider. Since Justin had moved into the loft, Brian hadn’t been heading to Babylon as frequently. He considered Justin’s confession that had slipped out, however unconsciously.   
  
He’d considered it all once before, walking along a beech and watching the blond splashing in the water. He’d decided he was up to the challenge, wanted to see where whatever it was he and Justin were to each other would take them. Whatever it took. Now Justin had confessed something that would have previously sent Brian running. He wanted to. He didn’t know what was different. Didn’t know what had changed, but he wasn’t leaving, and wasn’t exactly fighting it, whatever ‘it’ was.  
  
The sofa shifted and then a warm weight settled on Brian’s legs. “Goose, get off the couch,” he said. He was answered by a soft bark. “Goose!” Brian tilted his head up to glare at the dog. Goose looked back at him with puppy eyes and Brian huffed and dropped his head back on the couch.   
  
Justin came home late, relaxed and mellow after his class his muscles pleasantly worked and found Brian and Goose both lying on the sofa, both of them lifting their heads and watching him with similar expressions. Except, where Goose bounded from the sofa and barked and wagged his tail and greeted Justin with enthusiastic kisses, Brian merely sat up, raised his eyebrows and watched silently.   
  
Justin crouched and scratched Goose and ruffled his fur, and then he crossed to the sofa and kissed Brian before heading up to their bedroom, both his boys trailing behind him.   


 ------------------------

End Chapter Ten:


	11. Two Wrongs and One Right

* * *

Justin woke with a cold nose pressed to his temple and a quiet ‘ruff’ puffing warm air into his ear. “I’m awake,” he said, rubbing his eyes and trying to pull himself fully into wakefulness. Justin had very quickly gotten used to sleeping in, he’d quite enjoyed schedule-free days filled with whatever he felt like doing.   
  
“Ruff!” Goose said.  
  
“Okay, okay,” Justin said, yawning and stretching. Rolling over into Brian’s pillow for a moment before finally getting out of bed, as had become a habit. His job wasn’t high paying or high profile. He worked in a bookshop called ‘The Book Nook’ which sold both new and used books. It was old-fashioned in that the owner, Merrik Tidewater, stored his books in heavy oak bookshelves, and that there were so many books some of them were simply stacked in corners in piles as tall as Justin. There were plush chairs to read that Justin thought might be actual antiques.   
  
Merrik himself was an old man with white wisps of hair and thick glasses that magnified his eyes so they looked as large as his frames. He spoke quietly, but laughed loud and rasping, and knew every book in his store. He’d taken a liking to Justin immediately and was fond of Goose, who had been accompanying Justin when he’d seen the little sign that declared the ‘Book Nook’ was looking for a new employee.   
  
Justin pulled on a pair of jeans and slipped a hoodie over his head while he headed down the stairs. “There’s water in your bowl,” Justin was saying. “And food. I’ll come back at lunch and let you out, so don’t you dare think of marking-up Brian’s hardwood.” He poured coffee into his red travel mug, popped a Pop Tart into his mouth, picked-up his messenger bag and was out the door after setting the alarm and locking it. If he paused for even a moment, he’d start to get upset about leaving Goose all alone in the loft. As it was, he couldn’t leave without setting out the puppy’s toys and clicking on the radio.  
  
“Justin!” Merrik greeted as Justin pushed open the door.  
  
“Good morning,” Justin greeted.   
  
“We have music today,” Merrik said.  
  
“You fixed that old radio?” Justin asked curiously. Merrik was forever tinkering with an ancient radio. Justin had offered to bring in a new one, but Merrik refused to give-up on the one he had.  
  
“Not yet, cursed thing that it is. But we have a street performer! Didn’t you hear him?”  
  
“Not on my way in,” Justin said, setting his bag behind the cash register and checking the sheet to see if there were any shipments to prepare. They made contributions constantly to churches or children in need. Merrik left book selection to Justin, insisting he would know what the young people might want, but Justin was pretty sure Merrik would know more about some of the books than Justin did. Still, it always amused Justin (and Brian teased him constantly) that his reclusive reading in the library during his years at Liberty had actually prepared him admirably for his work.  
  
“He must have gone to lunch,” Merrik said.  
  
“It’s a bit early for lunch,” Justin said, smiling. Brian had met Merrik when he’d arrived at The Nook as a surprise to Justin. He’d taken to calling Merrik The Hobbit, because the man was small and oddly furry, and was quite fond of eating. Justin and Merrik got along quite well.  
  
“It’s never too early for lunch,” Merrik muttered, heading into the back room where they stored things that they couldn’t possibly pack onto the floor. “Where is that mischievous dog of yours?”  
  
“He’s at work,” Justin said. As had been his intention, Merrik laughed loudly, and emerged from the backroom carrying a stack of books.  
  
“I wouldn’t mind, you know, if you brought him in. He seems quite well trained. I’m sure I could find a nice rug he could make a bed out of.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Justin asked.  
  
“We’ll try it out. Think of it as probation. If he behaves well, then the offer will stand,” Merrik said. “Now, if you find room for these on the floor, lunch is on me.”   
  
Right about the time Justin found space for the third book, the music started. It was violin music, which Justin had never taken notice of before. His mother had given him a choice between piano lessons and sailing lessons, and Justin had gone with the sailing lessons. In high school his interests had been art and avoiding the general populous, so he’d never been to any of the school concerts.  
  
He listened to it all morning, as he helped customers, organized the shelves filled-out a shipment of books destined for a woman’s church group. Merrik brought in warmed croissant sandwiches with the egg on it, which Justin loved, and then shooed Justin out to get Goose.  
  
It was getting quite chilly, and he tucked his scarf around him and smiled when he felt the gloves stuffed in his pocket. If he ever pointed it out, he was sure Brian would stop doing it. So long as he pretended he didn’t notice, then Brian would continue. He was getting the hang of dealing with Brian’s quirks.  
  
Goose was more than happy to leave the loft, and armed with two plastic bags just in case, Justin and Goose headed out to the Nook once again. The musician had moved to a place across the street from the Nook, and once he caught Justin’s eye, Justin couldn’t quite look away. He sat on a bench with Goose sitting by his feet, and they simply watched.  
  
The passion was something Justin was familiar with. He felt the same way whenever he held a pencil or a paintbrush. Whenever he bowed his head over a piece of paper or a canvas and just created something. His brain wasn’t even entirely involved; it was something else, something not quite instinctual that guided his hand. This musician was the same. He played until it seemed the music he was created was in every breath, until the music became a physical thing pushing and pulling at the man’s body. It was hypnotic. It made Justin feel like they shared something, like they were equals, because clearly the man knew the same passion Justin did. As if they shared something he and Brian never could, because Brian couldn’t shut his head off the way this man did when he created ads, he relaxed and carried on with life and sometimes a slogan would come to him, but it wasn’t quite the same. It wasn’t going so deep into yourself that you forgot where you ended and the world began. It wasn’t like this.  
  
Goose’ restless movement recalled Justin from his thoughts, and he stood up, tugging on the leash and heading back into the Nook. That man was lucky. Music was his life; he lived and breathed for it. Art, for Justin, was just a hobby.  
  
....................  
  
Justin unclipped the leash and smiled as Goose charged to the corner of the loft where he’d left his rope-toy. Justin dropped his messenger bag by the door and kicked off his shoes before heading to the shower. He used Brian’s products, mostly because Justin didn’t know where to start buying his own.  
  
Changed, and with his hair damp, Justin headed into the kitchen to prepare dinner. He was adding vegetables into the stew he was preparing when Brian came into the loft. He didn’t say anything, but he crossed directly to the kitchen area and pressed his body to Justin’s back, his arms slipping around Justin’s waist and his lips pressed to the side of Justin’s neck.   
  
Justin dropped the stirring spoon and closed his eyes. He loved when Brian touched him, he loved feeling wanted and desired. But then again, he’d never actually explained that he couldn’t go further. “Wait, wait,” Justin gasped. “Stop.”  
  
“What?” Brian said, he kept his body still, and did exactly as he’d been requested.  
  
“I just ... the stew might burn,” Justin said.  
  
Brian was silent for a moment, knowing that wasn’t the reason, but willing to accept it if it was the only one Justin felt comfortable enough to give. “Okay.” He stepped away and headed to the shower.  
  
“Brian,” Justin said, his voice quiet. “I just ...” He stirred the stew because he didn’t want to turn and face Brian, didn’t want to see disappointment on the other man’s face. “I don’t know if I’m ready.”  
  
“Okay,” Brian said. He headed up the stairs, dropping his things in the hamper, and almost missed Justin’s frustrated mutter of ‘but Christ, I want to be.’ It made Brian smirk.  
  
..........................  
  
They were in the Jeep, leaving Liberty Avenue after an early dinner with the Gang, and Brian was doing his best to ignore Justin, but he was fidgeting and there was no overlooking his clear agitation. “What the fuck is wrong?” Brian finally snapped.  
  
“Nothing,” Justin said. “God!”  
  
Brian might have laughed, but he wasn’t in the mood for it. He drove in silence, until the came to a red light and he glanced over and his blond passenger. “Well, if you pick the leather off my truck because of that great big ‘nothing’ that isn’t bothering you, than you can pay for it to be replaced.”  
  
Justin looked at where his fingers were picking at Brian’s Jeep and pulled his hand away sheepishly, tucking them between his knees as if they needed the extra restraint to prevent more fidgeting. “It’s David,” he said. “He creeps me out.”  
  
Brian snorted. “Did he say anything to you?”  
  
“Nothing that I can point to and be like ‘Hey, he’s a creep.’ But he still creeps me out. And he keeps touching me, or bumping into me.” Justin bit his lip, then asked the question that had been bugging him since he’d met Brian’s friends. “Do he and Ben have an open relationship?”  
  
“Fuck no,” Brian said.  
  
“Well, then what’s their problem?”  
  
“Isn’t that enough of a problem?” Brian muttered.  
  
“I’m serious, Brian,” Justin said. “David’s acting like creep of the fucking year, Ben’s practically humping your leg when he isn’t making Bambi eyes at you, and I watch it and think, Christ, if I don’t put out where the fuck am I going to end-up?”  
  
“What?” Brian asked, his tone flat but Justin knew it all too well. He’d never heard that tone directed at him, though.  
  
“Nothing,” he said, recovering quickly. He turned his head to the window and stayed very still and very quiet. He thought he might win this one, because Brian hated talking, but then the Jeep swerved into a spot at the side of the road and came to a stop.  
  
“What to repeat that?”  
  
“No, it’s nothing. God, you’re such a drama queen!” Justin said. Brian didn’t rise to the bait, he just looked with that dangerous, intense expression, and Justin didn’t know what he’d done wrong, but he was willing to promise he’d never do it again. “It’s just something David said,” he admitted. “That you trick around.” Brian sighed and rubbed his temples. “I don’t care,” Justin was quick to assure. “It doesn’t matter. I mean, we’re not even really together until I ... well, you know.”  
  
“Jesus Christ, Justin,” Brian said.  
  
“No, I know. You’ve given me so much, and if this is what you need ...”  
  
“Don’t do the fucking martyr thing, it makes my dick soft.” Justin wanted to say ‘Good. Let it be soft, because then you’re not shoving it up other people’s asses when it should be up mine!’ but he didn’t, because Brian had really done more than anyone, more than he even deserved, and Justin was willing to accept Brian in any way he could have him. He’d swallow down the hurt, he’d ignore the shattered romantic notions he’d been holding onto and accept the reality, because reality, however bitter, was a better than nothing.   
  
“David’s an asshole, you said so yourself,” Brian said.  
  
“Actually,” Justin said. “I called him a creep.”  
  
“And Ben can hump my leg all he wants, I’ve had him, that’s done.”  
  
“So it’s true,” Justin said. Doing his best to keep his voice steady and have this discussion like the rational adult he was trying to be. “Anyone once, but only once.”  
  
“I’m going to say this once, and then we’re not doing this again because it’s ancient fucking history,” Brian said. This wasn’t how he’d seen this conversation going. Not at all. He pinched the bridge of his nose and then decided to bite the bullet. “I’m not doing any romantic walks on a beach or whatever the fuck you’re imagining. That’s not who I am. But I’m not who David thinks I am, either.”   
  
“So he lied?” Justin said.  
  
“No,” Brian said.  
  
“Well then, what the fuck, Brian?”  
  
“It hasn’t been like that since Liberty,” Brian said.   
  
“So, you’ve been celibate for seven months?”  
  
“Give or take,” Brian said.  
  
“What does that mean?”  
  
“I tricked when I got out,” Brian said. Justin remembered Brian telling him that he’d gone back to his ‘old life’. “And after the first month in Liberty.”  
  
“You fucked someone at Liberty?” Justin asked. “Who?”  
  
“The janitor,” Brian said.  
  
“Bill? He’s old! And ugly!” Justin said.  
  
Brian cringed. “Not Bill,” he said.  
  
“Oh, the new guy. Mr. Monday-Wednesday-Friday,” Justin said knowingly. “You’re a shit.” They were silent for a moment. “But since I moved in?” he was almost afraid to hear it.  
  
“I’m not answering that, you’re head’s going to fill-up with hot air,” Brian said.  
  
“I’ll be absolutely silent. I won’t say a word,” Justin was quick to promise.  
“No one,” Brian said. He looked sharply at Justin, but Justin mimed zipping his mouth shut. Brian looked out the front window, then glanced back at Justin. Justin was almost vibrating in his seat. Brian laughed and shook his head. “Just say it, get it out of your system.”  
  
Justin looked at Brian with large eyes and pressed his lips together, the words spilled out anyway. “You so care about me!” he said. “You love me soooo much!”  
  
“Fucking little shit,” Brian said, which had become a term of endearment. Justin leaned over and kissed Brian hard. “You don’t have to ... put-out,” Brian said, pushing Justin back.  
  
“Okay,” Justin said, he leaned back in and when Brian leaned away frowning darkly Justin rolled his eyes. “It’s just a kiss, Brian. It’s not a marriage proposal, it’s not a lifetime commitment, it’s not even sex.” They kissed again, and Justin sat back in his seat. “Can I put-out if I want to?” he joked. Brian rolled his eyes and ignored the question, steering the Jeep back into traffic. “David is still a creep, and I don’t like how Ben keeps flirting. Just for the record.” Brian snorted. “Hey, Brian, this is my stop!” he said, flapping his hands. Brian pulled the Jeep to the curb again, and Justin grabbed his gym bag and hopped out of the Jeep. “Later!” Justin said, shutting the door behind him.  
  
“Later,” Brian said, smiling as he watched Justin’s confident stride into Street Smartz.  


 ----------------------------

End Chapter Eleven:


	12. Cocoa Butter Boy

* * *

“Be careful with them!” Justin said, standing on the street in a blue rubber raincoat, and handing over a stack of books wrapped in plastic. “They’re like, a dozen little Bibles to him. I’m serious, Charlie.”  
  
“It isn’t your head on the chop-block if they get damaged,” Charlie said as he accepted the stack and dropped them in the back of his truck. “He loves you, it’s my head I have to worry about.” The rain was coming down hard, but the books were still needed for the book club. Merrik loaned out copies to the kids who couldn’t afford their own, and Justin worried the rain would destroy them before they reached their destination.  
  
He stood on the street, watching as Charlie pulled out into traffic, and then turned around to head back in to the warm dryness of The Nook. The only reason he heard the bark at all was because, after a month of dealing with Mother Goose, he was alert to any puppy-sounds that might indicate the dog had gotten himself into mischief.  
  
The alley between The Nook and the coffee shop was narrow and dark, but Justin could see dark smudge scratching pathetically at the large green garbage bin. The dog was older than Goose, Justin cold tell by the size of him, but he was scrawny and there were no tags on him. The poor thing was soaked-through and clearly starving.  
  
Decision made, Justin headed in the opposite direction, splurging on goodies from the coffee shop, and then went into the Nook. He went through to the storage room, and opened the back door, dropping samplings of the goods he’d purchased in a line that led right to the mat Goose liked to sleep on whenever he visited The Nook. Knowing that the dog was most likely skittish, Justin left the door open, set water by the mat and then busied himself.  
  
It didn’t take long before the dog stepped inside on shaky legs, and then proceeded to spray water everywhere, before trotting nervously to the bowl and the food that was laid out by the mat. Justin grinned, but kept on task, marking the books with price tags.   
  
When Merrik came down from the upstairs, where his personal apartment was, he saw the scruffy black dog sleeping on bed. “Pet project?” he asked, Justin grinned and Merrik left it at that.  
  
Around mid-afternoon, Justin tackled his personally assigned task of trying to find shelf-space for all the books currently stacked on the floor. There was an old winding staircase that used to connect to the upper floor, but had since been blocked-off and Justin had made some of the steps into bookshelves.   
  
He ignored the chimes at first because he was expecting Merrik to take the customer, but then he remembered Merrik was in the back organizing a shipment, and so Justin dusted his hands on his pants and trekked to the front of the store.  
  
“Can I help you?” he asked as he wound his way through the shelves.  
  
“I’m looking for ‘Notes From the Underground’” a familiar voice said.  
  
“Molly?” Justin said.  
  
“Justin? I didn’t know you worked here!” she said. They stood awkwardly, before Justin turned and headed back into the maze of shelves, Molly following tentatively until he snatched a book down and handed it to her.   
  
“That’s one of my favourite books,” Justin said.  
  
She smiled a little and shrugged. “I know.” They headed back to the cash and he rang-up the purchase for her, giving her his store discount but not mentioning it. “Look, I’m sorry,” she said.  
  
“Sorry’s bullshit,” he told her, the reply slipping automatically from his lips and surprising him. He was angry, but not at Molly and it was unfair to let her get caught-up in it. “I’m staying with Brian,” he told her. “If you need me, you can call my cell.” He wrote the number down and she smiled as she took it from him.  
  
“You’re my big brother,” she said. The defiance in her tone told him everything he wondered about how his parents were dealing with his release.   
  
“Whatever you say, Mollusk,” he said casually. She grinned at him and headed out of the store with a bounce in her step. The grin was infectious, because Justin was smiling for the rest of the day.  
  
It was the drug store that caught his eye on the walk home, and he paused out front for a while. When he had lived with his parents, he could remember how he’d begun experimenting with the products in the drug store. Mousse for his hair, or gel, the smells of the soaps he would sample. Liberty had been efficient when it came to shampoo and soaps. Each patient received the products they needed and were replenished whenever they ran out. Everyone used the same products and everyone smelled the same. It was something he had taken a great deal of pleasure in when he’d moved into the loft. Brian washed with soaps that smelled delicious. At first, Justin hadn’t been able to stop inhaling deeply whenever he was near the man.   
  
Harder than picking clothes, had been picking soaps. Justin didn’t know why. There was something so personal about that, something unique. A smell was something arousing or deterring. He wasn’t ready to be noticed on that level, had hidden behind Brian’s smell -- used his soap and shampoo and aftershave. Now Justin found himself wandering through the isles and sniffing bottles, reading labels and wondering.   
  
He stopped thinking about what Brian might like, and settled on something that he liked. The price was exorbitant for the shampoo and conditioner, the soaps and lotions and exfoliates he picked-up, but he was excited to spoil himself. It was another step on his path to becoming normal. Lindsay kept telling him he was ‘adjusting’. Justin thought he should have adjusted by now.  
  
......................  
  
Brian tossed his briefcase on the desk, ran his fingers up the back of Justin’s neck and into his hair and kissed the younger man’s neck. He noticed it immediately. He kissed again, took a deep breath. “You smell hot,” he said.   
  
“Cocoa butter,” Justin said with a grin, turning around and rapping his arms around Brian’s waist. “Like it?” he teased. Brian didn’t answer, he stepped forward pressing Justin back against the table, pressing his tongue into Justin’s mouth as he pressed his hips against the boy’s body. Justin’s fingers curled tighter, clasping the fabric of Brian’s suit. He leaned his head back as Brian’s kisses trailed from his lips to his cheek and then that place beneath his ear that drove him crazy. The wet tongue traced a path down his neck and Justin moved his arm, pulling Brian’s head closer and exposing more of his neck.  
  
There were fingers pulling at his shirt and then running up his waist, and Justin wanted to say the words ‘now do it now’ but he was barely coherent. He shifted backwards until he was sitting on the desk, hoping Brian might understand. Using his legs to pull Brian closer Justin focussed on unbuttoning the soft red shirt Brian was wearing -- not sure when Brian’s suit jacket had disappeared but happy it was out of the way. His own shirt was off, and he leaned back pulling Brian to bend overtop of him.   
  
It was sharp and instantaneous. One moment Justin’s eyes were closed, his breath heavy, his body desperate and Brian a warm welcome presence above him. The next he couldn’t quite breath, was lost in sensations from a different time -- in fingers, kisses, bites and scrapes -- Brian kissed a path down Justin’s bare chest and Justin’s fingers clenched in Brian’s hair but couldn’t quite pull the man off of him. He knew it was Brian, knew that he trusted Brian -- but his body was lost in memory and the memory wasn’t good. His vision tunnelled, the world grey but didn’t quite become dark.   
  
He wasn’t sure when Brian stopped, what alerted the other man. Maybe Brian was keeping a close eye on his reaction, which Justin knew the brunette did. He didn’t know, but when colour returned Justin was looking into warm hazel. “What happened?” Brian asked.   
  
Justin sat up, embarrassed and frustrated. He wasn’t aware he was muttering, cursing under his breath, but Brian watched Justin’s agitated movements as the blond fasted his pants and snatched his shirt from the floor. “Fucking Christ,” Justin said, loud. He ran an agitated hand through his hair and then stormed to the door.  
  
“Take your ...” but Justin thrust his feet in his shoes and stormed out of the loft before Brian could finish. Brian wasn’t going to go running after the blond and make sure he took his coat. Justin was frustrated as it was. He wasn’t the only one.  
  
  
Justin kept pushing himself, Brian almost wished he wouldn’t. The kisses and touches, the few times they’d jerked each other off had been incredible, but the times Brian had been able to touch Justin and bring him to completion was far outweighed by the number of times Justin had freaked-out, had a panic attack, or gotten lost in a flashback. There wasn’t much that Brian could do except be patient. There wasn’t anything Justin could try except to take it easy and continue to push himself. Brian could have handled it, but having Justin so close and then having to stop was driving him slowly crazy.  
  
“Fucking Christ,” Brian muttered and picked his suit jacket from the floor where it had landed and headed to the shower to jerk-off.  
  
When Brian emerged from the shower, towelling his hair dry and wearing the pants he’d taken to wearing, it was to find Justin sitting at the kitchen table, two place settings and food laid-out, his head in his hands. The cartons from the take-out he’d picked-up were still on the counter, and Goose was sitting beside Justin, his head on Justin’s lap.  
  
“I’m sorry I stormed out,” Justin said. “I know you think it’s bullshit, but it wasn’t right of me to do, and there isn’t another way for me to ...”  
  
“Okay,” Brian said, sitting at the table. He was strung like a bow, his patience was thin, but each time he thought he might finally lose it he’d see Justin looking every bit as frustrated as Brian was feeling and it shut him up.  
  
“It’s not you,” Justin said.  
  
“We keep going through this,” Brian said. “I know.”  
  
“Okay,” Justin said, scratching at the hair behind his ear. “It’s just, I don’t know what to do.”  
  
“Exactly what you’re doing,” Brian said. Brian picked at his food, then eyed Justin, who hadn’t picked-up his fork. “Aren’t you eating?”  
  
“I’m not hungry,” Justin said.   
  
“Okay,” Brian said. “But if he spills his kibble in the bed again in an effort to feed your starving self, I’m not cleaning it up.”  
  
“You didn’t clean it up last time,” Justin said. Goose had attempted to feed Justin his dog kibble. He’d carried his doggy dish up to the bed, leaving a kibble trail for Brian to find when he returned from work. Justin hadn’t known whether he should feel disgusted or flattered, but ended-up feeling exasperated as he had to clean-up the kibble and change the sheets. “I can’t believe I’m being blackmailed by my own dog!” he said, but picked-up his fork and began to eat.  
  
.........................  
  
Justin spent the weekend worrying, but Monday morning, the dog was waiting at the side door of The Nook, as had become their tradition. Justin set food by the mat, and the dog ate and drank and slept quietly for the rest of the day.  
  
“We need to give you a name,” Justin said as he ate his lunch sitting by the mat. The dog still looked pretty rough, but there were no cuts that Justin could see, he wasn’t defensive, didn’t growl when Justin came near and even let Justin pet him. He thought about Mother Goose alone at the loft with the radio for company. He’d tried bringing the puppy to the store, but Goose liked getting into mischief, and Justin was afraid to take his eyes off the young pup. This dog seemed to barely have the energy to take him from the door to the mat.  
  
“You know who you remind me of?” Justin asked, scratching the dog’s head gently. He smiled a little as the dog sighed. Justin remembered reading the Harry Potter books at Liberty, and he and Emmett had watched the movies a few weeks ago when Brian had been working late. “Grimm,” Justin said, the dog didn’t make a sound, but Justin thought, he didn’t protest either. “Good boy,” Justin said.  
  
The next day it snowed. It wasn’t surprising, it was nearing the end of November and they hadn’t had much snowfall as was usual. But Tuesday was cold and snowing, and Justin spent his lunch inside with Grimm, drinking hot chocolate and eating a sandwich as he stood by the window and watched the violinist across the street.  
  
Every day the man was there, every day he played regardless of the weather. Every day he brought the same passion to the songs he played and Justin ached a little more each day. He finished his hot chocolate and looked back at Grimm who was nestled under an old blanket Merrik had brought down to turn into a makeshift bed. ”Stay there,” Justin said. Grimm watched him blankly.  
  
Justin pulled his coat and scarf, smiling as once again he felt the gloves tucked into his pocket. He stepped out of the store and ducked into the coffee shop, bought two hot chocolates and headed across the street. “Sorry,” he said, when the musician stopped playing when Justin came over. “It’s just, you looked really cold. Here.”  
  
“I’ve been watching you,” the violinist said, smiling a little, looking a bit sheepish about the admission.  
  
“What?”  
  
“You’re from that bookstore, right? I’ve seen you coming and going,” the man said. Justin bit his lip and shrugged. “Sorry, it’s just. You’re really beautiful. You’ve been inspiring me, every day.” Justin grinned and took a step back, leaving his hot chocolate offering by the opened violin case. “I’m Ethan,” the man said.  
  
“I’m taken,” Justin found himself blurting. He was a bit startled by the words tumbling out like that, but it was the truth just the same and he grinned. It was sort of nice to say. The first time he’d acknowledged what he and Brian were to anyone. It had always been assumed, or implied. Here it was, plain as day. He thought he should apologize for the way he’d blurted it, but he couldn’t stop smiling and thought it might ruin the effect. “You play really well,” he said.  
  
“I don’t suppose I could entice you to accompany be for dinner?” Ethan said.  
  
Justin was still smiling when he shook his head. “I don’t do enticement so well,” Justin said. He wanted to say more, but didn’t. He crossed back to the store and hid himself among the bookshelves. It was flattering every time someone came onto him, and a little frightening, a little exhilarating. At that moment, he kept thinking ‘I’m taken’, and the violin music started again, and that bitter yearning roiled inside him, and he rested his head against a shelf, wondering why hearing the music made him feel such an aching yearning in him.  
  
“Why the fuck are you telling me this?” Brian asked as he grabbed a beer from the fridge.  
  
“I don’t know! I don’t know what my problem is,” Justin said.  
  
“You do have a therapist,” Brian said. “Someone who went to school specifically so they could answer this kind of shit, someone who you pay to answer this kind of shit for you.”  
  
“If I wanted to talk to a therapist, I’d have phoned Lindsay,” Justin said. “It’s just like ... he plays, and it’s incredible. It’s not even the music, it’s the feeling. He’s so connected to what he’s playing, so lost in it, like the world just falls back. But every time he plays I just feel empty.”   
  
Brian dropped onto the couch beside Justin and sighed dramatically. “So how does that make you feel?” he said.  
  
“I just told you,” Justin said. They paused a moment as Goose hopped up onto the sofa, and Brian did his obligatory glare-session before leaving Goose where he’d settled. “I want to be that free,” Justin said. “I want to paint. It’s the only thing I can imagine doing and being really happy.”  
  
“Cut down your hours at the store and paint,” Brian said. "Get whatever transcipts you need in order and enroll in art school." He sipped his beer and Justin settled against his side.  
  
“It’s that easy, huh?” he asked.  
  
“If you want it to be,” Brian said, smirking a little as he threw-back Justin’s words from a time before. They were silent a moment, sitting there on the couch. The TV wasn’t on, there was no radio, just a pleasant quiet, and comforting warmth of their shared body heat.  
  
“Can I say something?” Justin said quietly.  
  
“Can I stop you?” Brian teased.  
  
“I know you hate it, but I liked that we talked,” Justin said. “My parents -- I couldn’t talk with them. There was all this stuff that just went unspoken, and half the time I wondered, if I said anything ... sometimes I was as worried about how my words could change things, as I was that they wouldn’t change anything at all. I just ... I guess I just wanted to say thanks.”   
  
Brian kissed Justin’s temple, which was as much of a response as Justin needed. He’d been sitting in the bookstore and listening to Ethan play, and out of habit had been choking down what he’d been thinking. But Brian, once again, had proven that where they were living now was a thousand times different from where Justin had been living before, from where he’d grown-up. He’d spent so much of his life wishing fervently for something different, wondering if something different even existed and doubting it a little more every time he saw a movie or read a book, or heard the stories that the patients at Liberty sometimes shared. To finally have it, it seemed infinitely more precious. He tucked his head against Brian’s chest and breathed deeply, closed his eyes and held on. Unaware that Brian was thinking the same things.  


 ---------------------------

End Chapter Twelve:


	13. Mother Goose and Grimm

* * *

When Justin returned from Street Smartz he was wired and exhilarated and couldn’t quite sit still. Brian was sitting on the couch, sipping a beer and reading, and Justin climbed into his lap, pressed his body close and nipped at Brian’s lip, pushing his tongue into the older man’s mouth. He didn’t give himself time to think, while his mouth devoured Brian’s, strayed from Brian’s lips down his neck and to his exposed chest -- Justin had undone his shirt in record time -- Justin’s hands had slipped lower, had unzipped Brian’s pants and slipped inside, grasping him firmly.  
  
Brian grunted and dropped his head back against the couch while Justin stroked him, licked and assaulted one nipple before moving onto the next. He wasn’t quite aware he was doing it, but he was pressing his hips against any part of Brian he could come into contact with, rubbing as he brought the other man to climax, and when Brian finally came, Justin ground down into his lap and followed him over the edge before he bent and licked Brian clean.  
  
“Have a good day, dear?” Brian drawled. Justin grinned and hopped off Brian’s lap.  
  
“We finished our self-defence unit. We had the test today. You should have seen it. Kevin wore all this padding, and the final part of the test, he said do whatever we had to do, but the goal was to just get passed him. And I kicked him, really hard; he got pushed like, ten feet, and then fell onto his back. He couldn’t get-up either, the suit was so big it was like watching a beetle flat on its back,” Justin said as he grabbed his bag and brought it into the bedroom. He unloaded his gym clothes into the hamper and then went in for a shower.  
  
When he exited the bathroom he noticed the soft suede pad that lay by the bed. Goose, who had followed him to the bedroom, pawed at it then whimpered. “Guess he got fed-up with waking-up to doggy-breath. Sorry,” Justin said, sitting on the bed and scratching the dog. “I’ll still sneak you up here,” Justin whispered when he saw Brian climbing the stairs.  
  
“I heard that,” Brian said, glaring. Justin grinned and flopped back on the bed. He hadn’t put on his nightclothes yet, but he was so tired. He lay in the damp towel until Brian blocked the light by standing over him. “You’re making the sheets wet. Go change.”  
  
“Okay,” Justin said. He pulled the blankets over himself, and when Brian’s glare escalated but just before he opened his mouth, Justin tossed to the towel out in the general direction of the hamper.  
  
Brian tried very hard to remain casual. “You’re such a slob,” he said, and put the towel in the hamper. He crawled into bed, likewise naked, and lay still. Since Justin had moved into the loft, there wasn’t a night that passed when Justin didn’t press their bodies close, or snuggle into Brian’s arms. Brian had even taken to dragging Justin closer if the blond didn’t initially move. But now they were both naked, and Brian wasn’t sure how Justin would react.  
  
A moment passed. Then another. Justin shifted, wiggling until his back was pressed to Brian’s chest, he lifted his head-up and snatched Brian’s arm, dragging it over him like a blanket, and then settled back onto the pillow. They stayed quiet. Brian thought maybe this called for some kind of comment, maybe he should do something? The bed shifted again. Justin’s body tensed a little as if he were bracing for something, and Brian frowned. He lifted his head and realized Goose had settled into the space Justin had left on the bed.   
  
“I bought him a suede, designer doggie-bed,” Brian muttered.  
  
“He’s feeling left out, all alone on the floor,” Justin said, Brian could hear the smile in the blond’s voice.  
  
“Twat,” Brian said.  
  
“Twat lover,” Justin shot back after a beat. Brian snorted and Justin snickered. Whatever lingering tension there had been was diffused, and they settled in to sleep, Goose in Justin’s spot on the bed.  
  
............................  
  
“Forgetting something?” Justin called from his spot at the table. He was holding a mug of coffee and reading the paper and didn’t even look-up when Brian strode down the steps.  
  
“I better fucking not be forgetting something,” Brian snarked. He dropped his suitcase on the floor and patted his pockets, pulled out his wallet then returned it to the pocket.  
  
Justin looked up from the paper and lifted his eyebrows. Brian smirked and crossed to the table, he pushed Justin’s head back and kissed him deeply, then snagged an apple from the bowl Justin kept stocked on the counter and picked up his suitcase again.  
  
“Call me if your plane crashes,” Justin said, trying to be light.  
  
“If the plane goes down, you’ll be the first to know.”  
  
“If I’m the first to know, then your pilot’s a fucking idiot,” Justin muttered.  
  
“It’s not going to crash, I’ll be in New York for three days at most, don’t burn the loft down, and if Goose pees on anything ...”  
  
“He’s house trained!” Justin commented. Goose barked an indignant bark and returned to the bone he had been previously gnawing. Brian patted the dog’s head and left the loft.  
  
Justin didn’t work on Sundays, so he took Mother Goose out for a long walk and then lost himself in painting for the rest of the day, having only stopped for lunch when Goose had started barking ceaselessly. He’d grabbed an apple, let Goose outside, and then returned to his painting. At eight, however he was interrupted by Emmett, thee man had brought movies over and suggested a pizza party.  
  
“Oh my god!” Emmett cried. “Is that your dog?”  
  
“Yeah, Mother Goose,” Justin introduced. Emmett fussed over the dog and laughed when Goose made himself comfortable on the couch. Justin had told Emmett about Goose, of course. The Saturday following Goose’s introduction into the household Emmett had joined Justin out at Liberty, and Justin had described how he’d found the dog to Michael and Emmett and they’d spent the day talking while Justin painted the mural.  
  
Emmett ended-up spending the night on the couch, and they walked over to the Nook the next day for Justin’s morning shift. Mondays were one of the days Justin had arranged to leave work early and head-out to Liberty. Sometimes Brian would drive him, but most days he would make a huge fuss about scratches and car accidents and irresponsible people and then loan Justin the Jeep. He’d yet to relinquish the keys with at the very least a glare.  
  
“Make me look more buff,” Michael said. Justin was painting one of the smaller scenes and while he’d rinsed his brush Michael had moved in to get a better look.  
  
“Yeah?” Justin asked, smiling a little. “More buff? I can put your phone number in, maybe a little painting with ‘for a good time call’” Michael started tickling him and Justin squawked and batted him away. “You’re not a superhero, Michael!” Justin said.   
  
“Fine,” Michael sulked. Justin shook his head and moved back to the painting. “How are things?”  
  
“I’ve been trying to spend more time painting, but it’s hard, you know?”   
  
Michael nodded his head vaguely. “Have you had sex yet?”  
  
“Why do you always ask me that?” Justin asked.  
  
“Because if you have, I expect you to tell me in detail,” Michael said with a shrug.  
  
“Why, so you can drool over Brian? I don’t think so,” Justin said. They talked and joked around, and when they stopped for lunch, Justin doodled a sketch of Michael. He was super-buff wearing a super hero’s suit with his arms held up showing off his biceps. Beneath the sketch Justin had written: For a good time, call. Michael had laughed, and they’d made jokes about being ‘faster than a speeding bullet’ for the rest of the day.  
  
.........................  
  
One Tuesday there was a snowstorm. Merrik had called and told Justin that he wasn’t opening the store that he wasn’t well and didn’t think they’d do much business because of all the snow and the fact that the snowploughs hadn’t gotten to their neighbourhood yet.   
  
Justin sat with Mother Goose and read his book, but kept glancing outside and feeling worried. Before noon, Justin gave-up. He grabbed the keys to the Jeep, herding Mother Goose into the car and drove to the Nook. He brought soup to Merrik, and then checked the alley, which had been what had been bothering him all morning.  
  
Grimm was hunkered down in an old cardboard box. He yipped pathetically when he saw Justin, and didn’t quite know how to respond when Justin tried to coax him out into the snow. Finally, though, Grimm stepped out on shaky legs, and followed Justin hesitantly to the Jeep. Mother Goose didn’t quite know what to make of the other dog, but they weren’t growling at each other.  
  
It was slow going, but Justin drove to the veterinary clinic that he used for Goose, and took Grimm in to be checked over. Besides the malnourishment, Grimm wasn’t too bad. Surprisingly, he didn’t even have any fleas. Justin thought that might be because of the flea medicine he’d been adding to the dog’s food each time he visited the Nook, but made no comment. He had had dark visions of picking-up fleas from the stray dog and bringing them back to the loft and the conniption Brian would have.  
  
With Grimm relatively healthy, and Goose seeming more mother-hennish than ever and not at all territorial, Justin took both dogs back to the loft. He fed them and then corralled Grimm into the shower where he washed the dog vigorously. It was a very good thing Brian was out of town, because Grimm did not enjoy the shower and had broken loose from Justin several times, leaving streaks of water on the floor, and soapy footprints. Still, Justin managed to clean the dog up and dry him off. Then he cleaned the loft before he himself went for a shower. Bathing Grimm had left him soaking wet and smelling of damp dog fur.  
  
By the time Brian phoned on Tuesday night, Justin was half-asleep. He’d tried to stay-up, tried to ask Brian about what was going on, but Brian had told him to go to sleep after the third time Justin had zoned-out.   
  
......................  
  
Brian hung-up the phone, smirking and shaking his head. He wondered what Justin had done all day that had exhausted him, considering the snow had pretty much restricted the blond’s movement. It wasn’t so very late, and Brian was restless. He’d finished prepping his pitch on Sunday, and made the presentation on Monday. Tuesday had been spent entertaining the client, which was, to Brian, the most tedious aspect of his job.  
  
He changed quickly and hailed a cab. Brian wasn’t fussy where he ended-up, clubs were a dime a dozen and in truth they were all the same. The lights were bright, the music loud and the men tall, dark and half-naked. Brian drank JB and watched the lights illuminate the flailing, thrusting bodies. He wasn’t much for dancing, but he took a hit of E and forgot that he couldn’t quite dance well.   
  
The body was hard and warm and Brian smirked. Never fails, he thought. The man ran his hands under Brian’s shirt and kissed his chest. “Come on,” the man invited, smiling slyly and tugging Brian in the direction of what Brian assumed was this club’s backroom.  
  
Brian went a few steps, and then tugged his arm back. “Fuck off,” he said. He didn’t stay at the club long. In Pittsburgh he hadn’t noticed so much, there were other things to do, or more exactly there was always one of his friends at Woody’s or at Babylon. Since Brian didn’t dance, and wasn’t tricking, clubs really didn’t have much of a purpose if he was alone.  
  
.......................  
  
Brian stepped out of the cab and grabbed his bags from the trunk, setting the bag on his shoulder and heading into his building. When he pulled open the door to the loft, he almost called out, but stopped himself. Instead, he dropped his things by the front door and greeted Goose, who was very eager to meet him. “Where’s Justin?” Brian asked the dog, but was answered a moment later by the sound of sniffling.  
  
“Justin?” Brian asked following the sound and finding both Justin and Emmett crying, sitting with their backs against the sofa and sharing a blanket.   
  
“Brian?” Justin asked, wiping his face and looking pathetic.  
  
“What happened?” Brian asked.  
  
“He’s dead!” Justin said.  
  
“Who?” Brian asked, feeling oddly cold.  
  
“Angel,” Emmett explained.  
  
“I knew it was going to happen!” Justin said. “Why the fuck did you bring that stupid film here?”  
  
“What the fuck are you watching?” Brian asked.  
  
“I brought the movie ‘Rent’ over,” Emmett explained.   
  
“It’s a really good movie,” Justin said, sniffling.  
  
Brian rolled his eyes and pulled Justin off the floor. “Don’t I get a welcome back?”  
  
“Hi,” Justin said. Brian tickled Justin’s sides. “Welcome back!” Justin said with more enthusiasm.  
  
“That’s better,” Brian said. “Christ, have you left the loft at all?”  
  
“Yes,” Justin said indignantly. “Excuse me, you’re the one who refused to let me drive-out and pick you up at the airport.”  
  
“The road conditions are for shit. Even the cab driver was having issues,” Brian said.  
  
“I’ve been keeping a close eye on Sunshine,” Emmett said.  
  
“Have you moved in?” Brian asked, noticing the lime green bag by the couch.  
  
“He slept over last night,” Justin said with a grin.   
  
Brian nodded and brought his bags into the bedroom. “Christ, Justin, there’s dog hair all over the bed.”  
  
“Uh,” Justin said.  
  
“On my side,” Brian pointed out.  
  
“I was about to change the sheets,” Justin said, jogging up the steps and pulling fresh bedding from the closet. Before he could pull the old bedding off, Brian wrapped an arm around Justin’s waist and pulled them together for a kiss. “I missed you.”  
  
“Hm,” Brian said, smiling. He kissed Justin again, and then smacked his ass. “I’m not sleeping in those sheets.”  
  
“You know there’s just going to be more hair on the sheets tomorrow.”  
  
“There wouldn’t be if you kept your dog off the bed,” Brian said.  
  
“So now he’s my dog,” Justin said, speaking in a falsetto. “Whenever he does something wrong he’s mine.” Brian rolled his eyes and smacked him again, and Justin laughed.  
  
“You two are adorable,” Emmett said.  
  
“Fuck off,” Justin and Brian said simultaneously.  
  
......................  
  
Brian returned to the loft the next day to Justin making dinner. “La vie Boheme!” Justin said, an entire chorus accompanying him. He was shimmying his hips and stirring something in a pot, Goose was barking along to the CD.  
  
“Do I want to know?” Brian asked.  
  
“Hi!” Justin said. “I bought the soundtrack from ‘Rent’ because I couldn’t get that song out of my head.”  
  
“How did that work for you?” Brian asked.  
  
“I haven’t been able to stop singing along to it,” Justin said with a grin. “I’m making pasta! Bisexuals, tri-sexuals, homo-sapiens, carcinogens!” Justin sang. Brian stuck his tongue in his mouth tried to mask the level of his amusement. He kissed the bouncing blond head as he passed it and went for a shower. Brian left the door open and could hear Justin singing. “To so-odomy! It’s between Go-od and me!” and he couldn’t help snickering.  
  
“Emmett’s a bad influence,” Brian said as he towelled his hair dry.  
  
“Why?”  
  
“You spend three days with him and when I come back you’re singing show tunes. If I leave again he’ll have you in drag,” Brian said.  
  
“I could look pretty hot in drag,” Justin purred. “But that’s not my thing. Anyway, the music is catchy,” Justin said.   
  
“It’s better than Moby,” Brian said.  
  
“Secretly, you love Moby,” Justin said, waving he stir spoon at Brian. “I’m onto you.”  


 ----------------------------

End Chapter Thirteen:


	14. Mollusk

* * *

Brian smirked at Justin’s sleeping form as he passed the bed. The phone had been ringing while Brian was in the shower, and it hadn’t even made the blond rollover. Brian was pleased with Justin’s new sleeping patterns, deep restful sleep, without the old rules of Liberty waking him at odd hours, and with fewer and fewer nightmares.

The red blinking message light caught Brian’s attention and he pressed the button to hear the messages as he gathered the things he would need for work. The last person he expected to hear leaving a message on the machine was Jennifer Taylor.

“Justin?” she said, her voice raw as if she’d been crying. Brian could hear her sniffling. “It’s your mom. Oh, I’m -- I didn’t know who else to call. Honey, your sister she’s ... god ... Molly’s missing.”

“Justin!” Brian said, crossing back to the bedroom and shaking Justin’s shoulder.

“Mom?” Justin asked, rubbing his eyes blearily.

“Hardly,” Brian said.

“I thought I heard her ...”

“You did, she left a message on the machine, Molly’s gone.”

“What?” Justin asked, suddenly completely awake and sitting up, his expression worried, his hair tousled.

“How does your mother know this number?”

“She doesn’t,” Justin said, but Brian gave him a look. “I only gave it to Molly if she needed to get in touch with me and my cell was off. I guess my mom found the number in Molly’s room.”

“You didn’t give her the address?”

“Fuck no,” Justin said. “I have to call Merrik, and Liberty, can I borrow the Jeep? Wait, did my mom say if she phoned the police?”

“Sit down, sit still,” Brian said, tugging Justin back onto the bed. The blond was on the verge of freaking-out. “Get dressed, I’ll call Merrik and let Lindsay know.”

“She’s going to try and make me go out there and talk about how I feel about this,” Justin said.

“Probably,” Brian said.

“Tell her I have a really bad head-cold. I can fake-cough in the background,” Justin said as he reached over to the night table for his cell phone. “Dammit, the battery’s dead.” Brian snatched the phone and dropped it on the recharger, then got up to make the calls.

Justin was dressed in record time and Brian thought, just this once, he’d ignore the fact that Justin’s socks didn’t match. “Merrik says to take as much time off as you need,” Brian said, heading back to the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” Justin asked.

“To get changed. I’m not searching for little-girl-lost in fucking Armani,” Brian said.

“Brian,” Justin said, but when Brian turned to look at him his eyebrows raised, Justin just smiled.

Armed with the in-car cell-charger and his cell phone, Justin sat in the front seat of the Jeep and tried to think of places where his sister might hangout. Brian didn’t complain when they hit the mall, even if he thought it was a bit far-fetched.

“Christ, I barely know her,” Justin said after they’d asked the desk to make a mall-wide announcement for Molly Taylor to come to the information desk. “Where would she go?”

“Do you know her friends? Who would she trust?”

“Clarice is her best-friend, but the girl’s mother is a control-freak and Molly hates her. If she ran away from home she’d want someplace where she could stay, for a while at least. ... God, the only person I can imagine her calling is ...”

Justin’s cell rang and he tensed a second before he picked it up and flipped it open. “Hello?” he said, expecting his mother. She’d called once already on his cell in an effort to have Justin return to the house. Apparently having Molly go missing made Jennifer Taylor want to keep a pretty damn close eye on her other child.

“Fucking hell, Jester! You give me this number for emergencies and what, ignore it?”

“Molly!” Justin said. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asked. “Are you crazy?”

“No, why?”

“Why? You’ve got police after you, and mom and dad are freaking out. You left my number out for them to find and they’re phoning me like crazy! And I --”

“Bitch her out later, Princess. Where the fuck is she?” Brian said.

“Where the fuck are you?”

“I went to the Nook. Merrik called the loft but you weren’t there, but he let me use the phone to call your cell.”

“Don’t move,” Justin said.

“Yeah, like, where would I go? Hurry up,” she said.

“Unbelievable!” Justin said, flipping his phone closed. “She practically orders me to escort her royal ass home. She’s so ... so ... fucking spoiled!”

Brian remained stoic as he turned the Jeep towards the Nook, trying very hard not to laugh or openly display his amusement. Justin bitched the entire way, he was still bitching when he got out of the Jeep and headed into the Nook. Brian watched, alloqing himself a small smirk as Justin emerged with Molly rolling her eyes and following Justin still, apparently, bitching.

“Alright!” Molly was saying when Justin opened the door to the Jeep. “I get it! Alright!”

She climbed into the backseat, and Justin sat in the front. Brian was silent as he pulled out into the road, waiting for one of the two siblings to break the silence. Neither one did. Instead, Justin’s stomach took-over the conversation.

“You’re always hungry,” Molly muttered.

“Fuck you, I didn’t get a chance to eat breakfast,” Justin said.

“Why not?”

“Because I was looking for my idiot little sister!” Justin said.

“Really?” Molly asked after a minute.

“Yes,” Justin said. His arms were crossed; he was slouched in the seat and glaring. A second passed, then Brian heard the click of a seatbelt and caught sight of Molly’s arms wrapping around Justin like squid tentacles wrapping around a ship. “I can’t breath, god, get off me! You're such a freak,” Justin said.

“I love you too, Jester,” Molly said.

Brian took them over to Liberty, and they trekked to the Diner. “Was that a guy, or a girl,” Molly asked.

“It’s rude to point,” Justin said.

“This place is so cool.”

“We’re never going to get her to leave,” Justin said to Brian.

"I'm sure your parents would love that," Brian drawled, wrapping an arm around Justin’s shoulders as they opened the door. They were greeted by the clank of plates and loud chatter, and an immediate and welcoming blast of warm air that smelled faintly of grease. Molly scooted into a booth and flipped the menu over.

Brian was prepared for Justin to launch into an interrogation of his sister, to try to figure-out what she thought she was doing and why. For all Justin’s bitching, however, he stayed completely casual; and throughout it all, Molly had seemed relieved to see her brother, amused and oddly flattered by his tirade, and now both Taylor offspring were poring over the menu. When the waitress came, they placed almost identical orders without having consulted the other once.

Justin talked about the Nook and Merrik. He relayed a funny story about Emmett’s attempt at throwing a bat mitzvah, and somehow roped both Brian and Molly into a debate about the ‘Lord of the Rings’ films-- which Brian quickly learned Molly absolutely adored. Justin never mentioned where Molly might be going to after lunch, or what she was planning, or his parents or the Taylor home. Molly seemed to have no intention of going anywhere and once lunch was finished and Justin casually picked-up her backpack --a gesture made to look simply like good manners, but neither Brian nor Molly were fooled -- Molly followed them out to the Jeep and climbed into the backseat without comment.

There was really little question as to their destination. Justin needed a quiet, private place to talk to his sister. Molly might need a place to stay. The loft was the only logical conclusion, and Brian headed there without consulting anyone or being given directions. As they pulled onto Tremont, Justin dropped a hand onto the stick-shift, settling on top of Brian's hand, and he squeezed once, his head turned to look out the window. It made the idea of their home once again being invaded sit a little easier, knowing that Justin appreciated the support, was aware of it.

When Justin pulled open the door to the loft, Molly dropped her bag and it hit the floor almost at the exact moment her mouth did. “Holy shit!” she said.

“Watch your language,” Justin said. “Fuck, Goose!” he said when the dog leapt up, bracing his front paws on Justin’s legs, his tail wagging so fast his hips were wiggling along with it.

“Watch your language,” Molly drawled. “And isn’t he the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!” she said. “What’s your name, handsome boy?” She looked at the tags on Goose’s collar and laughed. “You’re both just way too weird.”

Justin ignored her and headed over to the kitchen. “Hey,” Brian said, snagging the back of his shirt. “You okay?”

“Sure,” Justin said. “I mean, we found her, that’s the only thing I was worried about. The rest, I’ll just have to talk to her about.”

Brian could tell Justin and Molly needed some sibling time, but Justin didn’t want to kick Brian out of his own home. “I’m going to head back to work, I don’t trust Theodore with the Kettchum account,” Brian said, Justin bit his lip then smiled.

“You were going to let Ted handle one of your biggest accounts with one of the biggest assholes?” Justin asked. Brian lifted his eyebrows, which earned him a kiss. “Is this one of those ‘do whatever I want’ moments?” Justin asked.

“Within reason,” Brian said. Justin grinned, and wiggled his eyebrows “That’s skanky,” Brian said, and Justin laughed.

“Later.”

“Are you two done necking over there?” Molly asked. She’d been entertaining herself with Goose, but couldn’t help taking glances at her brother and Brian out of the corner of her eye.

Once the loft door had closed behind Brian, Justin grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and headed to the couch. “You and Brian are really good for each other,” Molly said, standing up and following him.

“Hm,” Justin said.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I tried to call you but your cell was off. I figured you’d be at work, and that’s where I headed.”

“Without telling anyone, or calling the loft,” Justin said.

“I wasn’t thinking, okay?” Molly said.

“Why? What happened?”

“I can’t stand mom and dad!” she said. “I can’t stand how they treated -- screw that -- how they treat you! I can’t stand what they did!”

“You have a different relationship with them, Molly. Don’t ruin that over something you don’t understand.”

“Oh, give me some credit, Jester!” Molly said. She was pacing and flailing her arms. “I know what they did. They found out you were gay and freaked-out. When you stopped talking, they shipped you off to a mental hospital and tried to forget all about you,” Molly said. Justin tried very hard to stay calm, to not show the emotion that was roiling inside. “And now you’re out, and talking, and they’re freaking out again. I know what happened.”

“No,” Justin said. His voice flat and quiet, and with such an edge that Molly went absolutely still and looked at her brother who was still seated on the couch. “You don’t.”

“Then tell me,” she said.

“No,” Justin said. “Whatever happened between mom and ... And dad and me. It doesn’t matter, Molly. We each made choices and that’s it. But you’ve got your own choices and I don’t want you making the wrong ones because you’re trying to defend me. I don’t need to be defended.”

“I’m not defending you,” Molly said. “You were perfect, Justin. Or don’t you remember? You got straight A’s, you went to stupid Saint James and dressed like a good boy, and were polite -- a parent’s wet-dream! And look what that got you? One mistake -- something that isn’t even really a mistake at all, something that you couldn’t even help -- but they kick you out and it’s like you never existed.”

“Is that what’s going on with the hair and the clothes?” Justin asked. Molly’s hair kept changing colour -- her fingernails were always painted ink blue, her clothes were looking less and less attractive. “You’re trying to see how far you can push mom and dad without being kicked-out?”

“You make me sound like a nutcase,” Molly muttered.

“Try enduring daily therapy for two years, and then complain to me about sounding like a nutcase.” Molly smirked and grabbed her bottle of water from where Justin had set it on the coffee table. She collapsed onto the chair and looked at her brother.

“It’s more than that, too,” sheadmitted. “Dad comes home whenever he wants, he’s home late all the time. He treats mom like shit, and only remembers me when he wants to badger me about my marks or my clothes or who I’m hanging out with. It’s the same god damned lecture all the time. And mom’s working, she’s doing really well, and sets down perfectly reasonable rules and he won’t follow them. He won’t help around the house; he won’t take over some of the driving. And instead of saying something to him, mom just backs down. It’s not right. What kind of example is that for me? They’re so preoccupied with each other they barely remember I’m there.”

“They remembered today,” Justin said. “They were frantic.”

“They called you,” she said.

“Happily, I didn’t answer the phone,” Justin said. Though he had spoken with his mother. There’d been no choice, he needed to find out what was going on and if the police had been called. He’d lucked out at the Diner when he had called to let them know Molly had been found and got the machine. “Look, Molly. Running away isn’t going to solve anything, especially when you’ve got no money and nowhere to go.”

“I can stay here!” she said.

“You’re counting on freeloading off of me?” he asked.

“I can’t stay there, Justin. I just can’t,” she said.

“Okay,” Justin said. “The couch is open here whenever you need it, for however long. But think for a second about why you’re running away. Are you just frustrated and pissed off with mom and dad -- or do you really and truly believe that you’re done with them, that you’re ready to sever ties. ... do you feel like you’re in danger?”

“No!” Molly said, Justin nodded, relieved.

“Think about it,” he said. He brought down a blanket and pillow, although it was too early to go to sleep. She rapped the blanket around his shoulders and tucked her feet close to her on the couch and flipped through channels. Justin worked for a bit on calculating his options. If she decided she couldn’t possibly stand to go back, he’d have to support her until she changed her mind. And he was pretty sure she’d change her mind. Neither their mom or their dad had done anything to Molly, hadn’t hurt her hadn’t said anything harsh. They lectured, but what parent didn’t? Molly still needed her mom and dad, and what was more important, having them was still an option for her. Justin wasn’t going to let her ignore that.

Talking about his parents had made him tired, but he was too upset to sleep, so instead Justin picked-up a brush and painted. That’s how Brian found them when he returned with a bag full of take-out Thai. Molly sprawled on the couch, clearly too lost in thought to know what she was watching. Justin covered in paint, barely noticing Brian’s return.

“Molly, food,” Brian said, watching as the young girl slowly got up from the couch and, still wrapped in the blanket, made her way to the table. He headed for the bedroom. “Justin,” he said, stopping by the easel.

“Yeah?” Justin asked.

“Dinner’s on the table.”

“Oh,” Justin said. He dropped his paintbrush into the can of water and actually started to head to the table.

Brian snagged the back of his shirt, and grimaced as he got paint on his fingers. He didn’t even want to know how Justin could get paint on the back of his shirt. “Not dressed like that,” he said. Justin looked down and then met Brian’s gaze sheepishly.

“What did you two decide?” Brian asked as he took-off his suit.

“She’s thinking,” Justin said.

“What’s to think about? I’ve had parents, it’s a fate worse than --”

“Not my parents,” Justin said. “My parents are good parents,” he said. Brian looked at the blond somewhat cautiously and Justin frowned and scratched behind his ear. He shook his head. “They are for Molly. She’s pissed off and frustrated, and yeah, she needs a break, but they’re good for her.”

“Are you sure you’re not patching them up because that’s what you want? Secretly wishing they could be your parents again so easily?”

“Don’t psychoanalyze me,” Justin hissed. “I told you, she’s thinking. It’s her decision, and I left her to make it. I can support her until she decides to go back.”

“Or she could ask your parents for money, she gets along so well with them,” Brian snarked.

“You don’t know anything, Brian,” Justin said. Both of them were trying to keep their argument quiet so as not to disturb Molly.

“So you keep telling me. But I know what they did to you, and I wouldn’t just stand around and give them the opportunity to do it again.”

“It will be different with her,” Justin said with simple certainty.

“How so?”

“She’s straight. She’s a girl. She isn’t crazy. My parents love her. Pick one,” Justin said. “I’m going to get this paint off,” he said, and shut the door to the bathroom.

Brian pulled on his shirt and headed out to the kitchen. He found Molly holding a carton of Thai, eating with chopsticks and standing on the drop cloth, looking at the painting on Justin’s easel. “What did they do to him?” she asked when Brian came over. Justin’s painting was dark and chaotic -- like a fire, like menacing shadows looming over something -- someone -- very small. There were reds and blacks and blues, and Molly was hypnotized. Brian too.

Brian ignored her question and answered a different one that went unspoken. “Going home isn’t betraying Justin.”

She bit her lip and then turned back to the table. When Justin came down he was wet and dressed in sweatpants and a pullover, and clearly still upset. “I’ll go home,” Molly said. “But you’re not rid of me. I want to be able to visit,” Molly said.

“I always said you could,” Justin said.

“Okay then,” Molly said. “Now can we watch a movie?” Justin smirked and, grabbing a carton and chopsticks, strutted in that familiar stride to the TV.  


 --------------------------

End Chapter Fifteen"


	15. In Motion, Beautiful

Molly had eaten breakfast with them, and they’d driven her home. Justin had hugged her tight, but hadn’t stepped out of the car. He’d watched the house in the rear-view until Brian had turned onto a different street. By the time they cleared suburbia, Justin had pulled out his phone and was telling Merrik he wasn’t feeling well.

“Do you want to go back to the loft?” Brian asked.

“What?” Justin asked.

“You said you didn’t feel well.”

“No, it’s fine,” Justin said. The more they drove, the more agitated Justin became. Brian didn’t want to leave him by himself, but he’d shifted his morning meetings from the day before over to the next day and he had work to do. He let Justin off at the loft, then drove out again.

Brian called the loft to check-in at midmorning. Justin was out of breath and said he’d just got in from walking Goose. He was distracted. “I’m gonna go over to the gym, okay?” Justin asked.

“Sure,” Brian said, wondering why Justin asked. It was something Justin might have done in the beginning, when he hadn't been used to living together. He checked-in all the time and asked permission. It had been a relief to Brian when Justin had stopped asking and wondering without Brian having to have some sort of talk with him about it.

“Okay,” Justin said, and then hung-up. Brian frowned at the receiver.

When he returned from work, Goose practically pounced on him and it took a moment to realize the reason for the dog’s exuberance was because he really needed to go outside. Brian took Goose out, and then checked around the loft. There was no sign of Justin anywhere. Since the last place the Justin had said he was going had been Street Smartz, Brian headed there.

Justin was in black sweats and wasn’t wearing a top. The boxing gloves on his hands looked strange -- he looked small and fragile beside his opponent -- but he was moving like lightning. There was a sheen of sweat on Justin’s body, Brian watched as he licked his lips, braced his body and took a punch, then struck out just as fast.

It was a dance Brian had never seen before. Had never pictured Justin partaking in. He knew the young man was graceful, knew he balanced like a cat on a guardrail. He knew Justin was strong, knew he was tough. Had never envisioned him beating someone twice his size with determined efficiency. It scared Brian, because it seemed entirely too clear to him that Justin wasn’t seeing his opponent at all, but was lost somewhere else -- was fighting someone else.

The two men moved in the ring, Justin striking hard coming like an avalanche at his partner, until the other man struck out and landed a lucky punch to Justin’s head, ad Justin fell over. 

“Fucking hell, Charlie!” Justin cursed.

“Sorry man,” the other man, Charlie, said. “I had to land you one for lying to dear old Merrik. You should be at work.”

“So should you!” Justin said, taking off the gloves, still glaring.

“Yeah, but you were beating the shit out of me already, man. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Justin said. “Fuck off.”

“Hey,” Brian said, catching Justin as he came down from the ring.

“What are you doing here?” Justin asked, the earlier anger Brian had seen not visible any longer. “What time is it?”

“It’s late. Get changed, I’ll give you a ride back.” Justin showered in the change room and dressed quickly, meeting Brian at the front of the gym. “Feel better?”

“Lots,” Justin said, smiling broadly, his fingers tapping on the door handle. Brian glanced over and watched the fingers tap and nodded.

....................

“Where have you been?” Jennifer cried when Molly stepped inside.

“Out.”

“For an entire night?” Jennifer said. “Without calling and letting anyone know where you were? I’ve been worried sick!”

“I was never in any danger. And I’m home now, so you can stop worrying,” Molly said.

“What’s going on with you? What’s happening?” Jennifer asked.

“Why do you want to know? So you can try to fix me? If I’m too broken, will you send me away too?”

“Molly, your brother was very sick,” Jennifer said.

“Says you! You don’t even know what was wrong with him. Did you even ask? He won’t tell me. Nobody tells me shit.”

“You watch your language in this house,” Jennifer said.

“Dad swears all the time, you gonna yell at him, too?” Jennifer pursed her lips. “Didn’t fucking think so,” Molly said and climbed the stairs to her room, slamming the door.

"Molly!" Jennifer called.

......................

Justin returned to the Nook to work his usual morning shift. Merrik greeted him warmly, and didn’t pester him about how he was feeling. Grimm greeted him happily when Justin headed into the storage room. After the snowfall, with Brian’s imminent return, Justin had made arrangements with Merrik to keep the dog at the Nook.

Since no amount of working out at Street Smartz had quite settled him, Justin took to sorting the shelves, organizing everything. He worked without stopping, even when Merrik pestered him about eating. Finally, the other man left him to it, and by the time Justin had to drive out to Liberty, the Nook was in perfect order.

Justin took Grimm with him out to Liberty; the black ruffled dog sitting happily in the front seat of Brian’s Jeep as Justin drove. Justin didn’t trust himself alone. He’d started freaking out the other day once Brian had left for work. It wasn't like the sort of panic attacks he had become accustomed to following his father's mistreatment of him and Chris' attacks. This was something else.

Lindsay didn’t have any helpful advice. “Just relax and take it easy on yourself. Talking and thinking about your parents is hard. Dealing with your sister was even more difficult because it underscored the differences between you and your sister, and how your parents treat you both. Give yourself time to adjust.”

Except Justin couldn’t sit still. Kept wanting to fly apart into a million tiny pieces. He worked on the mural, Grimm adding coloured Doggy footprints onto the drop cloth after he got into the paint. Michael talked incessantly which kept Justin’s mind off of everything else.

He stayed late, and by the time he reached the loft. Justin felt tired and exhausted and couldn’t do much of anything except peel off his clothes and slump into bed. Brian, who had been working at the computer when Justin had come in, watched as the blond man collapsed into sleep, and sighed. It was a step-up from painting through the night. Then he frowned.

Goose was happily sharing his food bowl with a scrawny black dog that Brian had never seen before. “Justin,” Brian said, closing his eyes and shaking his head, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

...........................

Justin seemed completely normal the next day, and Brian observed him closely as the blond man made omelettes. “I was wondering where the little black hairs came from,” Brian said casually.

“What little black hairs?” Justin asked. The dogs barked, and Justin turned his head to where Goose and Grimm were sitting side-by-side, pink tongues hanging out of their grinning mouths. “Uhm.”

“You didn’t think I’d notice little black doggy hairs all over the loft?”

“I vacuumed,” Justin said defensively.

“That’s not the point. What the hell is that?” he pointed to the black dog.

“Goose has been really lonely. We’re both away for so long, and the radio can only do so much. It's got to be boring. I found him on the street. He doesn’t have fleas,” Justin was quick to assure Brian. “I took him to the vet and he’s healthy -- well, as healthy as you can get for a street dog. ... You bought me a dog, so I bought you one,” Justin finished.

“I bought you a purebred, trained, polite little dog that had white fur that wouldn’t stick-out like a sore-thumb when he sheds on the couch. Not a street dog.”

“He’s as unique as you are,” Justin said, then kneeled down and draped his arms over Grimm. “Can we keep him?”

“Justin,” Brian said.

“You can’t return a gift, that’s just bad manners,” Justin said. 

Brian snorted. “This is a trial period,” Brian said. Justin grinned and kissed him hard. “I didn’t say it was definite!” But he wasn’t fooling anyone. Even Grimm was yipping and dancing around his feet. “Get him a different food dish, I’m not having him eating out a bowl with a fucking goose on it.”

“I can paint a little black dog on his bowl,” Justin said.

“Why, what’s his name?” Brian asked, a look of trepidation on his face.

“Grimm,” Justin said. Brian covered his eyes with one hand and shook his head.

.............................

“How do you seduce someone?” Justin asked Emmett over lunch at the Diner one week after Molly had returned home.

“Who are you trying to seduce, Baby?” Emmett asked. Justin gave him a look, and Emmett clapped his hands. “Ooh, do you need help setting the scene?”

“I don’t want to go over the top,” Justin said. “We’ve been taking it slow -- because -- well, we have. And I don’t want to make this huge production and then, if it doesn’t work or something.”

“Honey, it will work just fine,” Emmett said. Justin didn’t want to explain more. Both Emmett and Michael were all too happy to forget what had happened at Liberty, but Justin could never forget Chris, and as much as he wanted Brian, he was worried. “I’ll pick-up all sorts of romantic things!”

“Don’t get carried away,” Justin warned.

“Absolutely not,” Emmett said. “And you don’t have to use everything. Sit tight and finish your lunch, auntie Em will be right back with your bag of goodies.”

Justin was almost worried about that, but he smiled and watched Emmett leave, and then pulled out his sketchbook. He sketched the waiters and waitresses, a table-full of a smiling friends, and was in the middle of a sketch of the growling cook who he could see from his booth when a woman bent over his shoulder.

“That’s lovely,” she said.

“Thank-you,” Justin said, somewhat hesitantly.

“I’m sorry, my name is Fran. I’m doing some work over at the GLC -- may I?” she asked, gesturing to the sketchbook. Justin allowed her to look through the pages, flattered when she handled the book with such care and pored over each sketch. “I hope I’m not being too forward. But would you consider contributing some of your work to the show we’re running?” She rifled through her purse and handed over an official-looking sheet of paper that explained about the show and the kind of things they were looking for.

“You’re asking me to show my work?”

“Well, yes,” Fran said. “It’s not much. A few pieces, and there are many artists contributing. The proceeds go to charity, of course.”

“I’d love to,” Justin said. Fran gave him the details of where to submit his pieces, and they were just finishing up when Emmett returned.

“Who was that?”

“I’m going to show my work over at the GLC,” Justin explained.

“My, my, things are looking up for you on all sorts of levels,” Emmett said, dropping a large back on the table. “Now, you take those home and do something romantic.” Justin grinned and took the bag, tucking his sketchbook back into his messenger. He was about to get up when Emmett grabbed Justin’s wrist. “You be careful, Baby. Some people around here, they’re not so sold on the idea of their stud being a one man kind of guy all of a sudden.”

“Some people around here don’t know Brian, or me, or what goes on at our home,” Justin said.

“Ooh, I’m so happy for you,” Emmett said. Justin blushed and rolled his eyes and hurried home.

......................

Justin emptied the contents of the bag, worried about what he might find. He wanted something simple, but romantic. He had no idea where to start. Emmett had started him with candles. There were all sorts, different sizes and smells. Justin picked the less obvious smells, and settled for the large vanilla candles.

He set them on the counter, on the table, on the floor, and then frowned when he eyed the dogs. Both Mother Goose and Grimm were sitting side-by-side and looking at him. “This is just too much,” Justin said. He snapped on their leashes and caught the bus. Emmett was more than happy to baby-sit, though he laughed at the idea. "Not in front of the kids, hm?" he teased. Justin ignored him.

On his way back to the loft, Justin stopped into the store and picked up some ice cream, and then finished setting up. With everything ready, Justin grabbed the icecream and ate some in an attempt to settle his nerves. It didn't quite work. As it got later, he showered, lit the candles, and then paced. He wasn’t sure how to do this. Should he be naked? Should he sit on the reclining chaise, or at the table? On the table? Justin snickered, and shook his head.

He paced until he heard the key in the lock, and then he threw himself at the chaise.

...............

“Justin?” Brian called when he stepped inside. The loft was dimly lit, there were candles everywhere and it smelled like vanilla. He stepped further inside and saw Justin sitting on the chaise.

“Hi,” Justin said.

“Hi,” Brian greeted. He bent down and kissed Justin. He'd meant it to be quick but Justin wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down into a deeper kiss. Brian felt Justin’s hand guiding his own until it stopped at Justin’s groin. “Justin,” Brian gasped.

“Come on,” Justin encouraged, shimmying back onto the chaise and tugging Brian further on top of him. Justin was thrusting up into Brian’s palm, which he still held in a firm grip.

Brian tried to clear his thoughts. “Wait,” Brian said, pulling back and getting off the chaise. Justin stayed in place, his legs spread obscenely, his hair already ruffled and his eyes looking worried.

“You want me,” Justin said, not sounding as certain as he wanted to.

“That’s not what’s been holding us back,” Brian said.

“I’m not fragile,” Justin said. “You can’t treat me like I’m going to break!” He was off the couch, walking passed the candles towards Brian. 

Brian turned quickly and pulled Justin roughly to his chest. His hands gripped Justin’s shirt, keeping him close, and he used his lips and tongue to pry Justin’s mouth open, devour him with a strong kiss. 

When they stepped back to breathe both of them were dishevelled. They looked at each other and then came crashing together again, Brian's handsgoing to Justin’s shirt and unfastening the buttons, while Justin freed Brian of his tie and suit jacket. They kissed ferociously, still ridding the other of their clothes as Brian stepped them backwards towards the bedroom.

At the base of the stairs, Brian released Justin’s belt and smirked as he discovered Justin wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Justin kicked off the cargos and pulled Brian close again. “Don’t stop touching me,” he pleaded.

Brian picked Justin up, the young man wrapping his legs tight around Brian and pressing his arousal against the other man’s bare abdomen, his mouth occupied with Brian's earlobe as the older man carried Justin onto the bed and then dropped him down, pressing their chests close as he kissed the blond’s sensitive neck, bit at his collarbone. Justin’s fingers scratched at Brian’s back and he pressed his hips upward, spread his legs wider. 

Brian licked his way down Justin’s pale skin, avoiding the long length of Justin’s cock, and then flipped hip over, and repeated the same procedure down Justin’s back, except he pressed his tongue into Justin’s ass, flicked it around his opening.

“Oh fuck,” Justin whispered like a prayer. Brian smirked, teased with flicks and gentle circling, and then pressed his tongue into Justin, loving how Justin’s hips tilted making his entrance more accessible. Brian rimmed the blond until he was shivering and panting, then he turned Justin over again, and knelt up above his body, looking down at ruffled blond hair, dazed blue eyes, pink lips glistening in the blue light, and the smooth pale skin beneath him.

Justin dropped his hands to Brian’s thighs, squeezing slightly. He was nervous, Brian could tell, but that was overlayed by lust and wanting. “You have to talk me through this,” Justin said, looking somehow even younger as he asked.

Brian ghosted his mouth over Justin's hear, flicking his tongue along the shell of his ear as he reached for the lube and a condom. “Put it on me,” Brian said, pressing the condom into Justin’s palm. Justin took a shuddering breath, then shifted upward so he could reach Brian’s cock. He tore the packet open clumsily and rolled the rubber onto Brian’s arousal, while Brian flipped the cap open on the lube and warmed it between his fingers. 

Brian pressed his fingers passed the ring of muscle as Justin finished rolling the condom on and the sensation of being penetrated sent Justin's eyes closing tight and he flopped back onto the bed, his hand going to Brian’s upper arm, following the motion. He kneaded Brian’s arm as Brian stretched him.

“Puts your legs on my shoulders,” Brian said, slipping his fingers free and guiding Justin’s legs into place. “Just relax,” Brian said. “I’ll get you there.”

Justin braced himself, wrapped his fingers in the sheets and took a breath to relax. Brian held Justin’s gaze and began to push in. Justin’s body arched this time with pain, but he rode it through, gasping when Brian was fully seated. He felt stretched and full and was trying desperately to keep his mind in the present, to stay with Brian where it was safe.

Brian waited, wondered if it had been too fast. Justin’s gaze kept flicking away, and every time he closed his eyes, Brian worried about losing him to a flashback. But then Justin’s hand gripped his arm again. “Move,” Justin ordered. “God, you have to move.”

So Brian moved. Each time Justin broke his gaze he moved faster, thrust hard, more deliberate, skirted over Justin’s prostate and took the flashback away, overrode it with pleasure until Justin couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but breathe and form unfinished words, issuing them like prayers. “Bri ...”

The sensation was unlike anything Brian had felt before. He was gasping and couldn’t think of anything except the sensation, except that he was with Justin, was inside Justin. That it was happening, that it was real. He was getting close, was trying to hold out and make it last longer, but each grunt, each mewl, each unfinished word that Justin made was an electric jolt that ran down Brian’s body. When Justin came his body tensed, bowed upwards pressing into Brian’s. Justin bit at Brian’s neck and mewled and gripped Brian’s cock inside him. Brian’s senses overloaded, carried over by the pleasure and the pain, and he came hard.

He collapsed onto Justin, barely managing to brace himself on his arms. He looked down at Justin, but the blond seemed completely content, lost in a blissful afterglow. “Don’t move,” Justin said, holding Brian still when Brian tried to pullout.

“I won’t,” Brian said.

“Just stay with me,” Justin said, still a bit incoherent.

“I’m here,” Brian said, dropping his body down over Justin’s. 

Justin turned his head into Brian’s neck and kissed him. “God,” he breathed. “Just stay.”

“Okay.”

\-------------------  
End Chapter Fifteen:


	16. Only Words

Justin woke to the sensation of fur against his naked skin. He smiled, remembering his night with Brian, savouring the slight burn he could still feel. His smile disappeared as he blinked open his eyes and realized he was sandwiched between Mother Goose and Grimm. “You just let them in?” he asked when he noticed Brian standing at the foot of the bed.

“Yes,” Brian said, his expression clearly reading ‘duh’. “Emmett was just here to drop them off.” His smirk let Justin know that Brian was both amused and flattered at the planned seduction. Justin’s smile returned.

“I’m gonna have a shower,” Justin said. He forgot about modesty and hopped out of bed, still naked and trying to ignore two sets of doggy-eyes that were watching him. “Want to join me?” he asked, flashing a coy smile at Brian. 

Brian let his eyes drift slowly up and then down Justin’s body, before he turned back to head down the stairs. “The mutts have to be fed.” Justin rolled his eyes and headed into the bathroom, part disappointed and part relieved. Brian had been amazing, and Justin had never felt closer to anyone before, but his old insecurities would not release him. As much as he wanted to be close to Brian again, and soon, there was a part of him that needed a moment to adjust to the idea of someone else getting so close to him – sharing his body for however long.

Under the warm water of the shower he replayed the night, from Brian’s entry into the loft, to the time they passed-out. They’d made love more than once, and each time had been something new. The first time had been intense. Justin had been expecting the pain but was unfamiliar with the pleasure, it had felt like a struggle to keep himself from flying apart and by the time they had climaxed and Brian had collapsed on him, Justin was embarrassingly emotion. He didn’t cry, he didn’t say much of anything, but there was little doubt that Brian knew and understood. 

The next time had been slow. Sated caresses and idle touches had slowly grown until Brian was slipping inside him again. Justin had known what to expect completely then, and he hadn’t felt so overwhelmed and they’d moved so slowly with each other. They’d done it two other times, and Justin was strangely proud that he had managed to quell any flashbacks. There had been flickers of memory, but each time he fought to focus on Brian, and seemingly the older man could read minds because he would kiss or touch him in a way that he forgot all about Liberty Hospital and what had happened there.

Justin didn’t realize he’d been touching himself until a larger hand enclosed his and took-up his pace. “Hi,” he said, leaning his body back against Brian’s, letting his hand be guided. He came not long after, savouring the feel of Brian’s hand on him, of warm water on his chest and Brian’s breath in his ear. 

“What are you doing?” Brian asked when Justin turned around and pressed Brian back against the shower stall.

“Returning the favour,” Justin said with a grin. He stroked Brian’s cock slowly, his mouth tasting the water on Brian’s skin, exploring this new ability to forget – or at least set aside the bad memories. He smiled when Brian came in his fist, and there was a sense of satisfaction that had him grinning and with a bounce in his step before he even had any coffee. Brian laughed at his antics but didn’t openly comment.

The buzzer sounded as Justin was pouring dog kibble into the bowls. Brian took the mug he’d been filling with him. “Yes?”

“Brian? Hi, it’s Molly. Is Justin there?”

Justin stood and brushed his hands off on his pants, shrugging at Brian’s inquiring look. He hadn’t been expecting his sister. Brian buzzed her in and waited before opening the door, approximating the time it would take for Molly to reach the top floor. “Christ,” Brian said as he opened the door to see Molly standing there. Justin was by his side in a moment.

“I told dad I was a lesbian,” Molly said.

It was silent until Justin found the words. “He hit you.” It wasn’t a question, and the tone sent warning flags-up for Brian, he glanced to the blond but Justin didn’t look to him. 

“Come inside,” Brian said, taking charge of the situation. Molly seemed to be relieved to be welcomed inside, and followed Brian to the kitchen as he wrapped ice in a towel for the bruise on her cheek.

“Did he hit you anywhere else?” Justin asked.

“What?” Molly asked, seemingly confused.

“Dad. Did he hit you anywhere else? What did he do?” Justin asked, his tone startling even Molly.

“No, god, he just freaked for a second and slapped me. We were having a fight and I was looking to piss him off. He didn’t mean it. Dad wouldn’t smack me around,” Molly said. Justin scratched at his ear and then turned on his heel and disappeared to the bedroom. She watched him go and it dawned on her slowly. “Holy shit.”

“What?” Brian said, his tone warning.

“He – that’s what. Jesus,” Molly said.

“Don’t swear,” Brian said idly, handing over the ice even if the bruise wasn’t very dark, before following Justin to the bedroom.

“I’m fine,” Justin said as soon as he saw Brian. He looked anything but, pacing back-and-forth, his hair ruffled and eyes wild. Brian knew the look for what it was, anger and fear. 

“Come here,” he said, watching closely as Justin stopped his pacing and walked slowly over. Brian gripped the back of Justin’s head, his fingers threading into soft blond hair and pulled Justin into his chest. “Just stand still a second.”

They were quiet, Justin trying to calm down and Brian listening closely as Justin’s breathing slowed. “I’m always the one falling apart,” Justin said. Brian stuck his tongue in his cheek and Justin rolled his eyes. “She doesn’t know,” he said. “Not about any of it.”

“Does it make a difference?” Brian asked.

“Probably not.” Justin turned and went back out to where Molly was standing by the counter, staring at the icepack in her hand. She saw him and started to say something but stopped when he hugged her tight. “Are you okay?”

“I didn’t know,” she said.

Justin hadn’t wanted his sister to ever find out what his father had done, but if she had to, he wouldn’t have wanted it to come-out like this. He had never once thought that Craig might do to her what he’d done to Justin. “Are you okay?” he asked, emphasizing the second word.”

“He hit me,” she said.

“It wasn’t right,” Justin said. “It doesn’t matter how angry he was, or what you were saying, he shouldn’t have done it. Not ever.”

“He did it to you.”

“It was wrong then, too.” Justin tried to believe it, but there was still a part of him that kept second-guessing, wondering if it was something he’d done, or said, if there was anything he could do to make it better. 

Molly cried, but not for very long, and when she was done she wiped her eyes and seemed to shake it off as if deciding that it was time to move on. So Justin moved on. “You told dad you were a lesbian?” he asked, trying to picture it.

“Yeah.”

“Are you crazy?”

“That’s what mom said,” Molly smirked.

Justin paused a moment and looked at his sister closely. “Are you?”

“No. It was a show of solidarity, you know?”

“Don’t do shit like this because you think you owe it to me,” Justin said. “You don’t owe me anything. And whatever happened between mom and dad and I – it’s our problem, and we’ll deal with it. Don’t let anyone make it your problem.”

“I hated them before I even really knew,” Molly said. “What they did, I mean. Dad’s been acting so bad, and mom just takes it. Just all the time, she just does whatever he wants and he’s being an unreasonable ass. I hate her for always letting him get his way. She should make him change; she shouldn’t just bow to his whims! And he should know better!”

“Mollusc,” Justin said. “Mom’s doing the best she can.”

“What about dad?”

“No father has the right to hit their kid,” Brian said. He’d taken his laptop into the bedroom in an attempt to give the siblings some sense of privacy, but knew where this was going and thought he’d step-in before the question arose. He dropped a blanket and pillow on the couch and headed to the kitchen, fishing out the takeout menus and dropping them on the table.

“Brian,” Justin said, frowning, but Brian shot him a look that very clearly said to wait and ask later.

They ordered Thai and Brian and Justin ate with chopsticks, Molly periodically attempting to perfect her technique and always returning to her fork. She settled down on the couch, and Brian and Justin settled into bed. “I don’t feel right about this. I can afford a hotel or something,” Justin said.

“Then who would watch the brat?” Brian asked.

“I would stay with her.”

“Then who would watch me?” 

“You’re all grown-up,” Justin said with a smirk. They kissed a bit, and Brian slid his hands down Justin’s smooth back, appreciating it more than ever that Justin was now both used to sleeping nude and also used to touch. 

“Hm,” Brian said, taking Justin’s hand and sliding it down to prove just how ‘up’ he had grown.

“My sister is right there,” Justin said.

“What, you want to call her?” Justin scrunched his face up and Brian smirked, taking advantage of Justin’s distraction to flip the younger man over.

“This is just wrong. She’s already been traumatized once tonight.”

“I bet she’d think it was hot,” Brian said, kissing his way down Justin’s exposed chest.

“She could hear.”

“She’ll have sweet dreams,” Brian said, smirking.

“What if she comes to see what’s going on?”

“She should know better,” Brian said, his hands coaxing Justin’s thighs apart as his tongue laved a nipple.

“She’ll ask what was going on,” Justin said, his fingers tangling in Brian’s hair and his voice becoming increasingly breathy.

“She’s not five,” Brian commented before dipping his tongue into Justin’s belly button. Justin thrust his hips up involuntarily.

“I’ll tell her to ask you,” Justin threatened.

“I’ll say we were dancing,” Brian said.

“Dancing?”

“Hm. The horizontal tango,” Brian said. Smirking as he kissed lower, one hand grasping Justin’s cock as the other stroked up and down his thigh. After a moment, Brian lifted his head up and raised his eyebrows. “Well?”

“What?” Justin asked, his eyes glazed. “I’m out reasons.” He shrugged. “I must be a bad brother.”

“I’ll still give you a gold star,” Brian said with a smirk.

Justin leaned up, pressing his mouth close to Brian’s ear. “I can think of something else you can give me.” He closed his eyes and lay back, surrendering because he needed the bad memories to be chased away and he trusted that Brian could do it. He held Brian close, gripped his arms, his hair, his hips. He took Brian in, again and again, and wished he could keep him there, wished it could last for longer – forever. Wished everything that existed beyond their bed away so they would never have to leave their makeshift sanctuary.

…………………….

Molly had coffee ready by the time Justin woke, and Brian was sitting with the paper open at the table. Molly smirked when she saw him coming down the stairs, adjusting his sweatpants and tugging the T-shirt he’d thrown-on further down. Her eyes looked him over pointedly, and flicked to Brian and then back. Justin glared and her smirk turned to a full smile.

“Hmph,” he said, collapsing into a chair, unable to make the several extra steps to the coffee pot. He snatched Brian’s mug while the man was distracted and took a long gulp before placing it back. Molly snickered when Brian glared at the almost empty mug.

“Unbelievable,” she said, grabbing another mug and bringing that and the coffee pot to the table.

“Milk?” Justin asked.

“Get it yourself!” Molly said. Justin glared again and then settled for drinking his coffee black. After the first cup, he felt resuscitated. He and Brian had been up late, and his night hadn’t been restful. Rather than enduring nightmares, Justin simply hadn’t been able to close his eyes, his mind was racing with images of Craig hurting Molly the way he’d hurt Justin. There wasn’t a clear solution in any of this mess. Justin still thought his sister needed to be with her parents, but Justin couldn’t let her go back to that house knowing what he knew.

The thought of food was too much; he drank the coffee and let the dogs out while Molly put away the bedding and Brian got his suitcase together. It was a weekday and Justin had work and Molly had school. “I’ll be here when you get out,” he said, trying to ignore the large familiar building looming across the street. Brian, his shades on, was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Justin wondered if maybe they were making Brian late. 

“Justin …”

“I’ll be here,” Justin said. 

“I need to pick-up my stuff from home,” Molly said. She was wearing her clothes from the day before but she kept her uniform in her locker, refusing to wear it more than was absolutely necessary. 

“Then we’ll stop there on the way to the loft,” Justin said. Brian’s eyebrows drew together and his fingers stilled. “We’ll figure something out,” Justin said, at once conscious that Brian wasn’t going to let him go back to his parent’s place alone and also that Brian and he both had to get to work.

“Thanks,” Molly said after a minute. Justin watched her head across the street to Saint James Academy, and then settled back into his seat.

“I’m sorry for all this drama,” Justin said as they headed towards the Nook.

“That’s what you get when you bring home a Princess,” Brian drawled. Justin snorted and then broke into laughter. It was like a dam breaking. He was fairly certain he was laughing so hard because he knew if he cried he’d never stop. 

“I should probably head over to Liberty,” Justin said when he’d caught his breath. “Are you sure you don’t want me to find a hotel or something? I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t want her going back to … it could be a while.”

“Parents shouldn’t hit their kids,” Brian said, his voice tight, and Justin knew Brian had his own dark memories. He wondered if maybe Brian was being so supportive about this for his own reasons, and not simply because he was helping Justin. This struck Brian close to home as well. “You’re not fucking moving out of your home over this. She can take the couch. We’ll figure something out,” Brian was saying. The Jeep stopped by the curb outside of the Nook. Justin didn’t say anything. He grabbed his bag and unlocked the door. With his hand on the door handle he turned to Brian and stretched across the gap between them, kissing Brian’s cheek, then his lips when he turned to face Justin. Justin knew Brian wouldn’t hear the words, but he heard this Justin could tell by the way Brian’s eye softened briefly. Then Justin hopped out of the Jeep and shut the door, heading into the Nook, feeling Brian’s eyes on him the entire way.

 

End Chapter Sixteen:


	17. Jester

His head was tipped-back braced against the back of the wingback chair, his hands covering his eyes. “Justin?” she asked.

“It’s just,” Justin said. He sighed and dropped his hands, tilting his head back to look at the floor, the bookshelf, the desk in front of him. He turned to look at the window in the office. “She never did that for me,” he said. Lindsay frowned at looked at him closely. They’d been speaking for over an hour and she’d have to call a stop soon because she had another patient, but Justin was very clearly upset. “I should be happy, right?” Justin said, shaking himself out of his thoughts. “It makes everything simpler.”

“You can’t deny how you’re feeling about this, Justin,” she said.

“Well, I can’t just –“ he was interrupted by a knock on the door, and a moment later her secretary poked her head into the room.

“Just another moment, and I’ll be right out,” Lindsay said, watched as her secretary nodded and closed the door. “What were you saying?”

“Nothing,” Justin said. “I should go.” She tried half-heartedly to call him back, but she knew all-too well that Justin couldn’t be made to sit still and speak if he didn’t want to. In the time he had been her patient, she had always had the sense that he was constantly realizing things about himself, and not sharing them with her. She didn’t mind that, so long as he kept realizing those things. 

“That took a while,” Michael said. He was in the rec room on a sofa that had been covered with a drop cloth. It had quickly become a tradition that Michael should spend the days that Justin came for therapy and to work on the mural with him in the rec room where they could visit and talk.

“Bad week,” Justin said with a shrug. He hoped to leave it at that, but Michael was half Italian and half drag queen, and pretty soon Justin was waving his paintbrush as he paced and explained the whole thing.

“So, your dad hits your little sister, and your mom is divorcing him?” 

“Yes,” Justin confirmed, finally coming to a halt and facing Michael with a solemn look.

“And you’re upset because … she didn’t do that for you?”

“I don’t know,” Justin said. “I should be happy because I know that Molly would have probably moved into the loft if my mom didn’t do this. And I love her, but honestly I think it would drive Brian crazy even though he’d be the one insisting on it. And it would definitely put a limit on our sex-life.”

“So then what’s the problem?”

“He smacks Molly and that’s the final straw. But he … he hurt me,” Justin said.

“Well, you said your sister got smacked when your mom was right there. Maybe she didn’t know you’d gotten hurt before,” Michael reasoned.

“I’m not prepared to give her the benefit of the doubt,” Justin said. “She wasn’t there for me, that’s the real issue.” Michael just stared at him until Justin fidgeted with the brush, scratching behind his ear and leaving a smudge of paint on his cheek and in his hair before he turned back to the wall. “So what’s been going on here?” For a moment Justin wondered if Michael would push him, but with a look of understanding in his chocolate eyes, Michael began to relay the various dramas at Liberty.

…………………

Justin wasn’t home when Brian got back. The dog dishes had been topped-off, and neither Mother Goose nor Grimm seemed overly anxious to go outside though Brian took them out just to be certain. In his bedroom he found the drawers that had become Justin’s pulled open, and several shirts were hanging over the side of the drawers as if they were trying to escape. A closer look at the shirts and Brian knew where Justin was.

He had a quick shower and changed quickly into a pair of black jeans and a black tank which Justin was particularly fond of before he grabbed his keys and headed back to the Jeep. 

Ben was standing out-front of Woody’s and smiled a little when Brian greeted him. “Do I want to know what happened this time?” Ben asked.

“What?” Brian asked, not having to feign his incomprehension.

“Nothing,” Ben said, he’d been trained to play this game and threw his hands up in surrender. “You’ve just go your work cut-out for you.”

Brian wouldn’t say that this statement concerned him. He had been anticipating some sort of reaction on Justin’s part to the news of his parents divorce but had been secretly hoping that Lindsay would be able to diffuse the ticking time-bomb that Justin had become when Molly had told them. Instead, Brian climbed the steps with some trepidation and opened the door.

Brian did not anticipate finding Justin drunk and tweaked out and standing on the makeshift stage of Woody’s with a microphone in his hand. Emmett was in the front row, of course, and Brian assumed (and hoped) that he was the source of whatever drugs Justin had taken. His arms were in the air as Justin sang.

“I want you to want me!” Justin sang. “I need you to need me! I’m begging you to beg me!” His shirt was unbuttoned and – Brian noted with faint humour – belonged to Brain, it was his favourite black sheer button-down shirt. Justin’s jeans were riding low and the sheen of sweat that covered his pale chest made him glow in the lights.

“Welcome to karaoke night,” Ben said, clapping Brian on the shoulder.

“Since when does Woody’s have fucking karaoke night?” Brian huffed, winding his way through the ground.

“Oh didn’t I, didn’t I, didn’t I see you crying!” Justin sang. “Hey Brian!” he said, and then his demeanour changed, practically purring as he dropped onto the stage and began to crawl over to where Brian had reached Emmett’s side. “I want you to want me. I want you to want me.” 

“How much has he had?” Brian asked Emmett.

“He’s feeling no pain,” Emmett said.

“I can see that.” 

The song ended and Justin tossed the mike at the next volunteer and hopped off the stage. “Did you see me?” he asked, his grin wide and his eyes bright.

“Hard to miss,” Brian said, adjusting the black shirt to cover Justin’s shoulders again.

“I’m having so much fun!” Justin said. “This was such a good plan, it totally worked,” he said to Emmett. Brian glanced over and Emmett stopped flailing his hands in shushing gestures and pretended to be scratching his neck. “Have you come to take me home and fuck me?” he asked Brian as he nuzzled his neck. Justin’s arms were around Brian’s shoulders, and Brian was relieved that he seemed to be able to stand on his own, but Brian kept his arms around the younger man’s waist just in case. “Because I could go for that.”

“You could go for that?” Brian asked with a smirk.

“Mm hmm,” Justin said, his nuzzling had become kissing had become a rather determined licking.

“Works for me,” Brian said. “Gentlemen,” he said as Ben and David walked up. Emmett waved them off. 

Justin was happy and chattering on the ride home, and Brian listened dutifully but was forced to shut the blond up in the elevator on the way up to the loft, which he did by pressing Justin roughly against the wall and overtaking the blond’s mouth.

“Let’s do it right here,” Justin said. Brian’s tongue crept in his cheek but his amusement died when Justin voiced what was likely at the source of this binge. “Don’t you want me?” he asked. Justin’s voice was breathy and his mouth demanding, his fingers already liberating Brian from his shirt, but Brian knew what his lover was likely thinking. “Come on,” Justin urged. It wasn’t a hardship, and if it would sooth some of Justin’s fears …

Brian pulled the condom from his pocket where he kept it having realized that being prepared was not only necessary when you could bump into a trick at any moment. He tore the wrapped and spat the side as his other hand pressed the emergency stop on the elevator. Justin groaned a little in anticipation before he turned around, working his own jeans and easing them down just enough. 

“Take me,” Justin was urging. “Come on.” And the words of his song earlier kept echoing in Brian’s head and they kissed as Brian used a packet of lube to prepare his young lover, working his fingers inside slowly. Justin was groaning against his mouth and even as their need for breath grew they couldn’t quite separate. Their kiss became sloppy, wide parted lips gasping in oxygen as tongues breeched the scant distance between them and Justin pressed his hips back into Brian’s hand and Brian replaced his fingers with his cock and pressed forward.

“God,” Justin sobbed, turning his head away and resting it against the cool metal wall of the elevator. “Move,” he ordered. And then they were kissing again and Brian grew drunk off Justin’s mouth and forgot about everything except Justin’s hot wet mouth and tight ass and smooth skin and the desperate mewling sounds he made and how he pressed back into Brian every time – every singly time. 

When he came, Brian thought he heard Justin breath the words “keep me” into their kiss but his vision had white mist around the edges and he was cumming and his vision tunnelled for a moment and he couldn’t be certain.

When the doors opened onto their floor, Justin’s hair was tussled and his lips were dark, his eyes still glazed and his clothes in disarray. Brian hadn’t even bothered to do-up his own pants, and they stumbled into the loft. Justin ignored Goose and Grimm’s eager greetings and made his way to the bed.

“Hey,” Brian said as he dropped a bottle of water onto the bed where Justin had sprawled. “Drink that.” 

Justin groaned and uncapped the bottle. “Next time,” he said, once he had drained the bottle. “You can freak out. It’s your turn.”

“How magnanimous,” Brian said. “Get some sleep.

“Hm. Can we fuck again?” Justin asked. 

“Later.”

“Can we fuck in the elevator again?” Justin asked, oddly sounding more awake.

“Sure,” Brian said, his amusement showing through again.

“A really long one, and we’ll move the entire ride – take us to the top – above it all,” Justin said, drifting off. Brian brushed the blond hair out of Justin’s face and kissed his temple before getting off the bed to change for sleep.

…………………..

Jennifer sat in the living room, her head in her hands, her daughter’s words ringing through her ears. She thought about how she had stood there, listening to Craig as he and Molly had argued, both of them stubborn and refusing to hear the other one. Molly clearly rebelling – and then she’d said she was a lesbian. Just like that. And Jennifer had stood there and watched Craig hit her.

It had been the last straw, the final thing in a growing list of grievances Jennifer had against her husband. She had overlooked his long days at work that she had slowly come to accept for what they were – a sign of his having an affair. She had put up with his tirades and his bitching about her work and refusal to take over any responsibility with the upkeep of the house. But striking her child had been it. That was unacceptable, and she could admit she’d grown afraid because she couldn’t do anything to protect Molly except this, except severing the ties with this man who she had loved once, but no more.

And Molly had stood there on the landing and thrown it back in her face. Reminded her of something else. Of Justin. But Molly couldn’t know for certain, there was no way that Justin would tell his younger sister something like that. But still, there was something in Molly’s eyes following Craig’s slap that she had seen in Justin’s eyes those years ago when she had returned from Molly’s school trip. And she hadn’t protected him then. He’d slipped away from her and she had been right there, only she hadn’t known, hadn’t understood – hadn’t wanted to see. 

“Justin,” she breathed and sobbed. What was the greater sin? To strike? Or to allow him to be struck? To stand by and for whatever reason, not do a thing. What was the greater wrong? What would it take to make it right?

 

End Chapter Seventeen:


	18. Mentally Unstable

Gus-bear lay on the bed, his furry body pressed between Justin and Brian as they slept. He spent most of his days overseeing the sleep habits of the two men from the dresser on the side of the bed, but every now and again one of them would reach for him. Tonight it had been Justin, half-awake, who had groped in the dark for the bear on Brian's behald, knocking the clock over while he tucked his body tighter under Brian’s arm, and then pressed Gus underneath the brunette’s other arm, offering doubel the security and comfort. Brian had smirked, and then had pulled Justin even closer, and Gus had tumbled down towards the bed. 

“We need a bigger bed,” Brian commented when he noticed Justin’s nose wrinkling in that way it did when the blond was waking. Justin lazily raised his head from Brian’s chest and surveyed the bed. They lay, their bodies pressed together. Mother Goose and Grimm had, at some point in the night, helped themselves to the place that Justin had vacated on the side of the bed, and Gus-bear too had made a space for himself. Brian smirked as Justin laughed.

“I like it like this,” Justin answered, dropping his head back to Brian’s chest.

“At least you’ve gotten over your shyness in front of them,” Brian said, laughing when Justin’s body tensed. The blond still knocked Gus-bear from his position overseeing the bed ‘accidentally’ whenever he and Brian were having sex on the bed, and Brian had caught him glancing around to make sure the dogs weren’t watching when they were on the couch once. He was happy both Goose and Grimm showed enough sense to remain in a different part of the loft when Brian and Justin were having sex because Brian thought if they didn’t Justin might actually call a halt to it. 

Overcoming his embarrassment, Justin leaned up and looked closely at Brian. “Feeling better this morning?” Brian had been woken by a nightmare. They’d become a rare thing for which Brian was very grateful. There had been a time when he couldn’t imagine sleeping a night through soundly. He kissed Justin’s temple and Justin nodded, understanding all at once what Brian was saying. He replied by dropping a kiss to Brian’s chest, and then climbing out of bed. “I have to get ready for work.”

……………………

Michael stood in the parking lot of Liberty Hospital and stared at the black Jeep with a sort of relief mixed with undying gratitude. “It saves me a very long and very emotional ride back with my mother.”

“No problem,” Justin said with a laugh.

“What are you two ladies prattling on about?” Brian asked, leaning out of the Jeep.

“He’s cranky,” Justin said. Michael nodded his head. “Come on, I’ll get your bag.” Michael climbed happily into the backseat and craned his neck around as they began to pull out of the driveway.

“It’s hard, isn’t it?” Justin asked when Michael lapsed into silence.

“I didn’t think I would miss it so much,” Michael admitted.

“You won’t. Everything that matters is outside those walls now,” Justin said with certainty. “All your friends are out here, now.” Brian drove in silence, but Justin’s statement made him smile. Something eased inside him. They’d been dealing with Molly and the Taylor-crisis – which sounded like a bad rock band – and sometimes Brian wondered if Justin regretted leaving Liberty. He could remember those first few weeks where Justin was hesitant and nervous about everything. Justin had never openly voiced his feelings about leaving the hospital, which had been his home for almost three years, and it was good to hear that he didn’t regret his decision.

Michael nodded and then smiled. “You’re right.”

“The Gang’s expanded, though,” Justin said. “I’ll introduce you to everyone. It’s going to be awesome. We’ll hit Babylon this weekend. You’ll love it.”

Michael was staying in his mother’s house until he got things organized and found a place to stay on his own. Justin had laughed when Michael had relayed the news that he wanted to move-out of his mom’s house as soon as possible, and proceeded to outline the various things Debbie would likely do should Michael actually move before she was ready to see her baby go. 

……………….

Justin dropped his messenger bag by the sofa and pulled his sweater over his head as he strode directly to the easel. He’d met with his sister after work and they’d had lunch at the small Irish pub on the corner of the street by the Nook. Molly was eager to talk to him about what was going on in her life, happy to have someone who could give her sound advice and a shoulder to lean on. Justin, however, found it difficult to remain helpful and supportive when he still felt all-over the place in regards to his parents’ divorce.

He turned the music loud and lost himself in his painting, not even realizing when Brian returned from work. By the time he stepped away from the canvas, he was emotionally spent and covered in paint. He turned at the sound of crinkling paper and was surprised to not only find it dark outside, but to find Brian unpacking Tai food from paper bags. Justin hadn’t even heard the deliveryman. 

He took a quick shower and threw-on some sweats before heading back out to the kitchen. “Michael wants me to show him around Liberty,” Justin said as he picked-up his chopsticks. “I was thinking we should take him to Babylon this Thursday.”

“Thursday?” Brian asked.

“It’s really crowded there on Friday nights,” Justin said with a shrug. “He’s already complaining about Deb,” Justin said with a laugh. “Can I have the Jeep tomorrow to head out Liberty?”

“Tomorrow’s Tuesday,” Brian pointed out.

“I want to go work on the mural,” Justin said with a shrug. 

“I can drive you out,” Brian said.

“It’s not a big deal. I just want to paint,” Justin said. He felt an itch that painting on canvas hadn’t been able to satisfy. A part of him wondered if attempting to paint the mural, which was more detailed than what he usually ended-up creating, might be a mistake when he felt positively wired – like he absolutely had to be painting. 

……………………

Babylon was thrumming with energy and pulsing with a deep beat as they stepped inside. “Wow,” Michael said, and Justin wondered if the dark-haired man realized he had inched closer to Brian and Emmett, as if shying away from the wild spirit of the club. In the beginning, Justin had felt exactly the same. Now, however, he just wanted to dance, to get out into the thick of it and surrender to the pulsing beat.

They headed to the bar where Ben was already waiting for them. David, however, had been unable to come, something that Justin was slightly relieved about. The man still made him leery. “Hey Ben,” Justin greeted. He’d gotten used to the other man. He was friendly and easy to talk to, and even if sometimes Justin still found him eyeing Brian, Justin felt he could trust Ben not to get in the way of things. “This is Michael,” he introduced. 

There was a brief moment where Michael and Ben seemed unsure what to do, but then Ben stretched out a hand and Michael smiled and shook it, and the moment passed, but Justin hadn’t missed it, and a brief glance at Brian showed that his lover hadn’t missed the moment either. Justin grinned. He liked Ben, and he thought Michael could use someone; they’d be good for each other. Better than David and Ben, Justin still couldn’t figure-out how that had happened.

“Come!” Justin demanded of Michael after they’d downed two shots of Beam.

“Ooh! Yes! Let’s dance!” Emmett said. Brian and Ben followed them out, and Justin grinned to feel Brian’s arms dropping over his shoulders. He pressed his hips back and let his head rest against Brian’s chest as their bodies fell into synch. 

“Um, Wow,” Michael said, his eyes unable to move away from Justin and Brian who were completely wrapped-up in their own groove, Justin’s right arm stretching behind him to hold the back of Brian’s head as Brian kissed up and down Justin’s neck, they’re bodies still keeping the beat of the music.

“Yeah,” Emmett said. “Don’t mind them, Honey. You get used to it.”

“What did we miss?” a new voice interrupted.

“Teddy!” Emmett greeted, at the same time Michael gaped and screeched: “Blake?”

“Hi!” Blake said. “I’m just going to pop over and get a drink. Do you want anything?” he asked. Everyone shook their heads and Blake headed towards the bar.

“I can’t drink anything even if I wanted to,” Ted muttered. “Blake put me on some hideous diet … “

“The purge,” Emmett and Michael answered at the same time.

“You’ve heard of it,” Ted agreed. “I’m not enjoying it.”

“Nobody does,” Emmett said. “Oh, this is Michael. Michael this is Ted, he’s Brian’s accountant and, as you might have guessed, Blake’s hubby.”

Ted scoffed at the term, but shook Michael’s hand. “Nice to meet you,” Michael said.

“And now you’ve met the new and expanded Gang,” Emmett said.

“With the exception of David,” Ted volunteered.

“Who’s David?” Michael asked.

“Ben’s partner,” Emmett said. Ben was dancing not too far from them with another man, and Michael glanced at him.

“Oh,” he said. He couldn’t help feeling disappointed. Everything was a bit overwhelming since he’d left Liberty. His mother still had work every day, which at least gave him some peace and quiet, but she made-up for it when she and Vic returned from Liberty by rarely letting Michael out of her sight. As much as Michael wanted to find his own place, he liked having his mom and uncle there when he needed them. Justin had shown him around Liberty, and that had been exciting, because Michael had never had the courage to go there before. It was a new world. 

“Are they at it again?” Blake asked as he returned to the group. Ted rolled his eyes and Michael followed their gaze to Justin and Brian. They had attracted a good deal of attention.

“I think it’s sweet,” Emmett defended.

“I’m going to go say hi,” Blake said.

“Ha, good luck,” Ted scoffed. “They won’t even know you’re there.”

“I’m going to go over to the bar,” Ben said, as he was passing by.

“I’ll come,” Michael said, jumping at the chance. Truth was, Brian had caught his eye when they had been at Liberty together, but Justin had left and moved in with him, and Justin’s stories more and more revolved around he and Brian – even when Brian wasn’t directly involved, even when Brian’s name wasn’t mentioned – and it became impossible for Michael to nurse the fantasies he’d cultivated in those four months when Brian had been at Liberty, or the Saturdays that followed. And then a long session with his therapist and he was realizing he just wanted someone for himself. Someone that could be entirely his that he could talk about in the same way that Justin talked about Brian. He couldn’t understand how Emmett could stand it. All his friends, until Michael had joined the group, were paired off, and happy. Michael had barely been with them and he was getting caught-up in how much he envied them. Yet Emmett seemed the same as he ever did.

“So what do you do?” Ben asked as he handed over a beer.

“I haven’t got a clue,” Michael admitted. Right, he thought to himself, first things first. It was one thing to want something, but maybe he was getting ahead of himself. He didn’t even have a job. He had no idea what he was going to do with himself now that he had been released from Liberty. He’d spent most of his first week of freedom hiding in the bedroom he’d been raised in that was still covered with wallpaper displaying motorcycles, staring at a corkboard stuffed with childhood memories.

……………………..

Justin set the canister on the ground and sighed. “Don’t just stand there!” Michael said, and he thrust-out a scraper. “I’ve rented this thing,” he kicked a foot in the direction of a little machine. “I want it all off.”

“This is so exciting! I have so many ideas for this room!” Emmett said.

“Scrape!” Michael demanded. Justin waited as Michael picked-up the steamer and proceeded to steam the wallpaper off the walls, and then he began scraping the remnants. Emmett paused to put on some music and then spent his time avoiding work by dancing and cheering them on, but Justin forgave him because after he disappeared for an hour, returned with a positive feast for them when they stopped for lunch.

Justin could see where Michael’s impulse to change the room was coming from. He could also understand that this was a positive step for the man, but in his mind, he couldn’t quite understand why Michael wasn’t moving out. The man was thirty-two, and instead of looking for a place to stay on his own, he was redecorating the bedroom in his mother’s house.

Then again, Justin wondered where he would be if Brian hadn’t offered the loft as his new home. Likely, he would have stayed in Liberty. He hadn’t wanted to be alone, even sharing a loft with Brian, those first few weeks, the quiet alone had been disorienting. But then, Emmett had offered a room in his apartment. 

“I want to do this entirely on my own,” Michael had declared. Justin had wondered later how staying at his mother’s house could be construed as independence in Michael’s mind, but Brian had told him to stop sticking his nose in other people’s business. Well, he hadn’t used those words, but the message was essentially the same.

Justin preferred other people’s problems, though, because they distracted him. Distraction was a good thing, in his opinion. “I want a mural over there, on that wall,” Michael said. “Something like the one you’re doing at Liberty.”

“How about a motorcycle?” Justin suggested.

“Fuck off,” Michael said.

“How about all of us?” Emmett asked. “Like a photograph?”

“No,” Michael stated with certainty. “I want a superhero.” He pulled an old comic from the nightstand they’d pushed into the centre of the room. “Like Captain Astro.” Michael stared at the comic in his hand. “But not Captain Astro. Someone original. Can you do that?” he asked with a frown.

Justin looked at the space on the wall, and then peered over Michael’s shoulder at the comic and shrugged. “I can try.”

…………………..

It was late when Brian finally pulled-open the door to the loft. A client had decided rather last-minute that they were not satisfied with an ad, and Brian had been busy modifying it. He had known that Justin was spending the day with Emmett and Michael as they overhauled Michael’s childhood bedroom, but he had not expected for all three of them to end-up at the loft. He certainly hadn’t expected to find them all stoned, either. 

Justin was situated on the sofa, poised as if he were a blond-Buddha, with the dogs on either side of him, a joint smoking in his hand. At his feet, Michael and Emmett were reclining, snickering.

“Hey,” Justin greeted, craning his neck to see Brian as he tossed his coat aside and headed into the bedroom to change. Brian was exhausted, as not in the mood to join the others. He was even mildly irritated to find them in the loft, obviously winding down after an amusing and productive day. He nodded idly in Justin’s direction as he headed in for a quick shower before bed.

“Hey,” he heard Michael ask. “How do castrated things pee?” Brian rolled his eyes and yanked his tie off, before working on his shirt buttons. The question was answered by peels of laughter from Justin and Emmett. “What?” Michael demanded. “It’s a serious question!” The laughter continued, and Brian thought he heard a thud, and one of the dogs barked. “You don’t know, do you?” Michael cried when the others only laughed harder. Huffing, Brian tossed his shirt in the hamper and closed the bathroom door.

The water was warm on his skin, and it eased some of the tension from his shoulders. Feeling better, Brian dried off and then headed back out to the bedroom, hoping he wouldn’t have to bodily remove Michael and Emmett from the loft. Instead, he found Justin on the bed, the blue light glowing softly, and both the dogs curled on their respective beds. The loft was quiet, and Brian wondered how Michael and Emmett were getting home. He hoped they’d had the sense to get a cab.

“Mm,” Justin greeted drowsily when Brian slid into bed and they settled into their usual sleeping arrangements. Brian didn’t want to spare a thought to the fact that he had grown accustomed to falling asleep with his arms around Justin, or Justin draped over him in some fashion or another.

The loft grew quiet as Brian listened to Justin’s breath, and the dogs. The remnants of the day’s stress that had withstood the shower finally drifted away and he let his eyes close. “Brian,” Justin’s whisper broke the quiet a moment later, and Brian could feel Justin perching his chin against his chest. “Are you awake?”

“Hm?” Brian said, not willing to make the effort to form an actual word or sentence.

“How do castrated things pee?” 

Brian snorted and then laughed before he pressed Justin’s head back down. “Go to sleep, Sunshine.” And Justin’s quiet, steady breath answered him, the blond having already fallen asleep.

\-----------------------  
End Chapter Eighteen:


	19. The 'Q' Stands For...

* * *

 

In theory, Justin knew about the backroom at Babylon, just like he knew about the Liberty Baths, and what exactly went-on in the basement of MeatHook. Justin had listened avidly to Brian's stories when they had shared a room at the hospital. He'd heard the gossip when they shared breakfasts at the Diner. It was hard to spend any regular amount of time on Liberty Avenue and not pick-up that sort of thing.  
  
He hadn't seen it, though. Whenever they'd gone to Babylon Justin might offer, but Brian always pulled him out of the club and they'd drive back to the loft to have sex. Justin knew it was a concession on Brian's part, he was an exhibitionist at heart, but Brian knew Justin wasn't comfortable with that sort of thing. Sometimes it was hard enough just to focus on Brian, and even though things had gotten better, every now and then dark shadows would creep through Justin's mind.  
  
He wasn't sure he understood the draw to fuck in public in a dark and grimy hallway, which made the fact that he was walking carefully through the backroom all the more curious to him. Justin couldn't make himself turn around and leave, though; his curiosity kept drawing him in deeper.   
  
Groans echoed off the narrow walls, dim light lit body parts -- a smooth cheek, a hand pressed to the wall fingers spread wide, an eye, the back of a neck. Shoulder blades, hips in motion, and Justin's eyes took it all in, ate-up the caresses of coloured light on glowing skin, the groans of dozens forming a discordant choir. Justin didn't know why he'd ventured back there, didn't know why he couldn't turn around, but it was beautiful and made his skin hot just to be there, even as it made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle and make it seem as if the walls were closing in.   
  
"Did Alice get lost in Wonderland?" a voice asked, and Justin turned to see a tall man, so tall the light hit the base of his thick neck and left his face in darkness. "I can help you."  
  
Justin raised his arms and pushed away from the wide chest and turned away, stumbled further into the forest of thrusting bodies. "Justin," a familiar voice asked, and Justin was relieved at the familiarity.  
  
"Ben!" he greeted.  
  
"What are you doing back here?" Ben asked, taking Justin's elbow and already turning to guide them out before Justin could answer. "Never mind, let's go find Brian."  
  
Justin resented that, as if he were a lost pet that needed to be returned. He jerked his arm away and walked out on his own. It wasn't as if he'd been back there fucking. The light dawned and he looked sceptically at the taller man beside him. What had Ben been doing back there? He and David were in a serious, not to mention monogamous relationship.  
  
Brian was sitting with Michael and Emmett at the bar, and Justin waited a moment, wondering if Ben would mention where they'd come from, but he didn't. "Let's go," Justin said, pressing a kiss to Brian's neck.  
  
"But we're celebrating," Brian said, tongue-in cheek. "Michael's wonderful success." Justin knew better, instead of saying anything he nipped lightly on Brian's earlobe then ghosted his lips downward, leaving a path of moist heated breath along Brian's neck, feeling a faint shiver beneath his lips. "See ya, Boys," Brian said, standing and wrapping an arm around Justin's shoulders.   
  
They stumbled out into the cool night air, Brian fumbling for the keys as they kissed. "Liked what you saw?" Brian asked, his voice a mere whisper against the back of Justin's neck.  
  
"What?" Justin asked, innocently.  
  
"The backroom," Brian said. Justin tensed, wondering if Brian might start asking to fuck back there – as arousing as it had been, Justin wasn't prepared to do that. "Shh," Brian whispered. "Tell me what you saw."   
  
They stumbled into the Jeep, reluctant to let each other go for too long, which resulted in Justin climbing in after Brian and directly onto his lap. They kissed, and Justin reclined the seat, pressing their cocks together and grinding his body down. "Bodies," Justin whispered, his fingers working the buttons loose on Brian's shirt. "The light highlighting their skin – a hand here, a back. The nape of a neck."   
  
Brian smirked, how like Justin to focus on the artistic picture. He wondered if his blond lover had noticed the gang-bang going on in the corner with the man in a sling, or the three-way at the back of the hall. Brian wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't, it was enough that there had been light highlighting pieces of men, perfect pieces, and it hadn't been the anonymous sex, or the positions or the activities of the men that had gotten Justin into this frenzy, it was the light. Brian could understand why Justin had fallen into such quick love with Brian's loft – and the blue light above the bed.  
  
Brian's hands were in Justin's hair as Justin reached a hand back and fisted Brian's cock – he'd liberated it from the jeans the brunette was wearing – and then a moment later, Justin was rolling a condom down Brian's length.   
  
"Fuck," Brian breathed. Justin settled himself on Brian's cock, shifted his weight – testing -- and Brian gritted his teeth. Justin shifted a bit more, and Brian knew the blond was teasing him now, he growled and gripped Justin's hips, forcibly raising him up, then lowering him back down his length. Justin's mouth dropped open and his body bent forward, his forehead resting on Brian's chest as their hips worked.  
  
They lay there for a while after they both came, regaining their breath, coming down from the orgasm. "We should go," Justin said. Brian raised his eyebrows. "You have to fuck me in the shower," Justin said, like it was a social engagement that had slipped Brian's mind.  
  
"Ah," Brian said. "Of course."  
  
…………………….  
  
Michael had been working there for three days and it didn't feel any easier than his first day. The Big Q had been the only place to respond to his application, and Michael had been happy to have a job. When he'd been preparing to leave Liberty he'd known it would be all too simple to fallback into old habits and let his mother take care of him. She'd been doing it for ages, and it made things simpler. Debbie was a demanding woman who was only now making some progress with seeing her son as an adult. And even then, it was an upward battle.  
  
The first step, he knew, was getting a job. Kiki, a waitress at the Diner, had offered him a chance, but after a day testing it out, Michael decided it was too much too fast and he couldn't keep-up. The Big Q seemed perfect. Except that he was sorting stock, and putting-up with his homophobic co-workers. Some of his co-workers made attempts to invite him out, to get to know him, but Michael couldn't tell them that he was gay, they wouldn't understand, and not being able to tell them left him feeling depressed, like a liar. Everyone assumed he was straight he hadn't openly lied, but it was implied, because he let them believe.  
  
"Heh, look at those faggots," Bill, one of the Big Q employees muttered to Tony. "The ladies section is that way," he said, and snickered. Michael watched the two men pretend not to hear, used to hearing these sorts of whispers, it just rolled-off their backs. Michael wondered if it still hurt, and decided it must, it's just they had more nerve than to sink to Bill's level and make an issue of it. Michael wondered if what he was doing could be thought-of as the same thing.  
  
"Novotny, did you see those fucking faggots?" Bill said.  
  
"Yeah," Michael said.  
  
"Makes me sick," Bill said.  
  
"They're customers, keep your voice down," Lana said as she passed by the isle. "One of you help me with these boxes of baby-wipes." Bill was off his feet, flirting shamelessly as they pushed the cart-full of boxed baby-wipes. Michael decided he wasn't anything like the two men who'd walked past. He was a coward, and he was in hiding.  
  
…………………………  
  
Justin pulled the Jeep to the curbside and laughed as he saw Emmett running out from the store he'd been in and waving his arms. "I'm sorry!" he shouted as he pulled open the passenger door, huffing dramatically as he tossed several bags onto the floor and settled himself in. "I was running late. I just couldn't decide between the bright-blue net shirt and the mango T. I got both."  
  
"It's okay," Justin dismissed. He'd picked-up the Jeep from Brian because this was one of his days to drive-out to Liberty for a session and also to work on the mural. Emmett had been more than happy to offer company, and they had plans to abduct Michael. They'd each been busy with work, and hadn't had much chance to talk, but ever-since Michael had got his job, Emmett had been wanting to drop-in and surprise him. Their plan was to abduct him from work, since he should be finished his shift soon, and then they'd have a chance to talk while they drove out to Liberty, and also while Justin painted.  
  
"I'm so excited!" Emmett said, clapping his hands. "I can't wait to see his face."   
  
The Big Q wasn't exactly a highbrow job. Michael wasn't a manager or anything particularly special, and whatever discounts Michael got, it wasn't like either Justin or Emmett would be eager to benefit from them; still, neither of them could have possibly been more happy for their friend, or more proud. Which made Michael's reaction to their visit all the more upsetting.  
  
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Michael said in a furious whisper, enunciating his words like he did when he was particularly upset.  
  
"We came to visit you, Baby!" Emmett said.  
  
"Keep your voice down!" Michael said, made 'shushing' hand motions and pulled Emmett and Justin into a different isle. He was glancing around nervously.  
  
"Michael," Justin said. "What's wrong?"  
  
"What's wrong is you barging in here, where I work and causing a scene," Michael snapped.  
  
"We're just saying 'hello'," Emmett said, frowning.  
  
"Well, could you say 'goodbye'?"   
  
Justin glanced around, confused by Michael's intense reaction. Things dawned slowly, and admittedly, made Justin feel a bit nauseated. "We didn't mean to upset you. Come on, Emmett," he said, grabbing Emmett's arm and tugging him away.  
  
"What was his problem?" Emmett asked. Justin shook his head and they left hurriedly.   
  
On the drive back, Emmett had a lot to say. He wasn't sure what offended him more, being treated that way by a friend, Michael hiding the way he was, or Michael attacking them like that because they weren't afraid of who they were. "It wasn't like this back at Liberty," Emmett said. Justin agreed, but he thought that maybe, that was the whole point.  
  
…………………  
  
Justin kicked and punched and dodged until his skin was shining and his breath was coming in short pants. He thought about silence. He thought of being so ready to be exactly who he was, ready to embrace it, express it. He thought about fists and hands. He thought about harsh words and dark tones. He thought about how a single sound, a single word could shatter worlds.  
  
He thought that maybe, even if he didn't agree with Michael, he could at least understand him.  
  
……………….  
  
"I'm not out at work," Michael said, although it wasn't a revelation. He scratched his arm and tugged at his jacket and tried to avoid Justin's steady gaze. "It's just … It's not a place that I can …"  
  
"Okay," Justin said, leaning against the fridge, tapping his opened water bottle against steel. "You're not out at work." Michael nodded while he inspected the surface of the counter. "You could have told us. You didn't have to make us feel like shit when we were only trying to support you."  
  
"I didn't have a choice!"  
  
Justin snorted harshly. "You always have choices. So you're out, or not at work. Whatever. That's a choice. We're your friends, Michael. Emmett and I are both gay and we choose not to hide that fact. If you have a problem with it, let us know."  
  
"I don't have a problem with it! I'm gay, too!"  
  
"If our choices are interfering with your, let us know. Don't tear us down like we're nothing. Like we're idiots."  
  
"I'm sorry," Michael said, finally looking up to meet Justin's gaze.  
  
"Okay," Justin said.  
  
"Okay?" Michael asked. "Just like that?" Justin shrugged and quirked a smile. Slowly, Michael smiled back.  
  
………………..  
  
The television flickered, casting moving shadows around the darkened loft. Brian tossed his coat on the counter and glanced towards the sofa where he could distinctly see a familiar blond head. "Hey," Michael said, stepping down from the bedroom, presumably on his way back from the bathroom. "I was just on my way out."

"Okay," Brian said, already dismissing the brunette as he headed towards the couch. 

Michael paused on the step watching with curious eyes as Brian picked-up the chips and popcorn that had been left on the table. For a moment, Michael considered offering to help clear things away, but there wasn't much and Brian had already cleared most of it.   
He wandered to the stool by the kitchen where he had left his coat and keys, and pulled his coat on slowly, watching as Brian smirked and tugged-off the sock that was hanging from Justin's foot, the other having already been lost. The smirk vanished, though, as Brian pushed back the blond hair.

"Hm?" Justin said, still more asleep than awake.

"Move to the bedroom," Brian said, his soft voice and the movement of his thumb across a pale cheekbone belying the harshness of his words. Michael paused, waiting as Justin made his way clumsily up the steps and disappeared into the darkness, Brian not far behind. He could make-out their shadows, once the blue light had been turned on, as Brian stripped the smaller man, Justin lying on the bed, already fast asleep.  
  
Michael was building his life, that's what he kept telling himself. That he was building his life and getting himself in order, but increasingly it felt as if maybe he was building on the wrong foundations. Before he'd left the hospital, as his conviction in his decision to leave only increased, Justin had said that Liberty was predictable, routines that were so easy to fall into, and there was a certain amount of comfort to be taken in that. Michael had been told that he was ready to leave Liberty, but now he had to question how ready he really was. He'd thought about embracing change and being independent. How much of that was hanging on to the familiar? How could you find yourself when the better part of your day was spent keeping yourself hidden?

End Chapter 19:


End file.
